Just Another Patriotic Guy
by TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: For 6 years, Angus MacGyver, EOD tech, has been chasing a bombmaker, The Ghost, through Afghanistan, with CIA Agent Jack Dalton and their team. His life is irrevocably changed when an MSF hospital is targeted. Luckily, his friends are there to catch him when he falls and help him get back on his feet again.
1. We Will Stand Tall

AN: _Just Another Patriotic Guy_ comes from the 300th episode of NCIS (of which I was an avid fan for years, and for which I blame for my love of Team as Family as a theme/idea), from a song sung by members of MusiCorps in the episode. In keeping with the musical inspiration of this piece, each chapter has a 'theme song', which I will reveal at the end of each chapter (for the sake of no spoilers!).

* * *

 **AUGUST 2015**

 **US MILITARY BASE**

 **KUNDUZ**

 **AFGHANISTAN**

* * *

CIA agent Jack Dalton sat in the Mess, talking with several Delta Force commandoes he'd worked with back in the day. Seated opposite him were Senior EOD technicians, Staff Sergeants Charlie Robinson and Angus MacGyver. The group of men made up a special taskforce that he (officially) led.

Thomas Davies, the most senior of the commandoes, was talking about the state of the country they were trying to help.

'This place has been screwed over too many times…ever since the Soviets…'

The blonde EOD tech nodded.

'The Afghanis have seen too many years of suffering.'

Jack nodded solemnly, then grinned and leaned over to punch Mac lightly in the arm.

'You sound far too old for your years, kid.' He paused and considered for a moment. 'You weren't even _born_ when the Soviet-Afghan war ended, were you?'

That earned him a chuckle from the other men, while Mac shook his head at them with a smile. The newly-promoted Staff Sergeant was the youngest man in the taskforce, and while after six years serving together, all the older men respected his skill, intellect, courage and dedication, they still enjoyed teasing him every chance they got.

The sat-phone that Jack, as the technical leader of their taskforce, kept with him at all times, rang.

He picked up and listened, stony-faced, then hung up and turned to his team, who had instantly grown serious.

'Intel suggests that he's planning to strike.'

Jack didn't have to elaborate on who the _he_ was. They all knew. The Ghost. They'd been chasing the bombmaker all though Afghanistan for the last six years and he had truly earned the moniker. Only in the last four months had they finally managed to get a physical description of the man, and only last month had they finally acquired a DNA sample.

It was Mac who spoke up.

'Target?'

Jack shook his head, mouth set in a grim line.

'MSF hospital about forty clicks from here.'

His men's eyes grew colder and their expressions more set.

A Doctors Without Borders hospital was a target that only the worst of humanity would choose.

As they set off in the Humvee, Jack glanced over at the younger man who'd become like a brother to him.

Mac looked older than his twenty-five years at that moment, blonde hair covered with a bandana, face set in grim lines, but sometimes Jack still saw him as a kid, as much as he knew he really wasn't.

No kid could do what Mac could.

No kid had been though what Mac had been through.

The CIA agent was well aware of Mac's personal vendetta against The Ghost.

He remembered all too clearly meeting the nineteen-year-old EOD tech, full of grief and anger after losing his C.O, his trainer, his mentor, Alfred Pena, to the bombmaker.

Pena had been about to go on leave to see his daughter's birth. The little girl would be about six by now.

Jack reached over and clasped Mac's shoulder briefly.

They'd get the bastard.

They had to.

* * *

 **MSF HOSPITAL**

 **KUNDUZ**

 **AFGHANISTAN**

* * *

The evacuation of the hospital was well underway.

Mac negotiated the crowded corridor as best as he could; there were people buzzing around everywhere; patients, relatives, nurses, doctors.

He made his way to the hospital's ICU, where Davies had radioed in that he needed some assistance.

'Sir, ma'am, you're going to have to leave.'

Davies was addressing an older man and a young woman, both doctors.

The young woman stepped forward and shook her head at the commando.

'We can't just leave our patients.' She gestured at the life support machines keeping the four patients alive. 'And they can't leave the hospital.' She swallowed, crossed her arms and stared down both soldiers.

Mac and Davies exchanged a glance. They could both tell that she was definitely afraid, but pushing it aside to do her duty. It was a look that all soldiers were intimately familiar with, and the look of pretty much all the medical personnel in the building.

 _I've always had a lot of respect for the MSF personnel._

 _Who doesn't?_

 _They volunteer their skills, for which they've studied long and hard, which typically could make them very good money back home, leave their loved ones and comfortable lives, and often put themselves in danger to boot, just to help other people._

The older male doctor put a hand on his younger colleague's shoulder.

'Beth…'

She turned to the other doctor, eyes fierce with determination.

' _I know_ we can't save everyone. You're always telling me that, Chris, and _I know_. But we _have_ to try. We can't just leave them here to...'

Davies shifted awkwardly, keenly aware, as was Mac, that they only had a very limited amount of time to evacuate the hospital and catch and stop The Ghost.

'Ma'am, I hate to tell you this, but you'll save more people in the end if you get out of here than if you stay with your patients.'

Mac glanced around the room, then at the young doctor. She looked resolute; understanding the truth that Davies spoke, but not willing to abandon her patients, determined to try and do _something_ , even if she had no idea what the something was yet. Or if it could be done.

That was a feeling Mac understood well.

Leave _no-one_ behind.

Zero is the _only_ acceptable casualty rate.

He glanced around the room again.

Life support equipment, beds…there was a storage room, door ajar, off the ICU, and he could see what looked like a broken generator in there…he'd passed some cars, doubtlessly belonging to the MSF, on the way in…

Davies looked at the younger man, recognized the look in his eyes, nodded at him in acknowledgement and radioed the rest of the team.

'Robinson, you're going to have to cover for MacGyver. He's got to help with the evacuation.'

With a nod of acknowledgement at Davies, grateful for a team that understood him and how he worked, Mac started doing what he did best.

* * *

As the last of the ICU patients was transported out, the young female doctor grabbed Mac's arm as he hurried out of the ward to help his team, and looked up into his eyes for a moment.

'Thanks.'

He gave her a very small smile, and nodded, before running back down the corridor, which was still buzzing with activity.

* * *

'We're not going to get him; he'll have seen all the activity, realized that we got his bomb, and disappeared.'

Charlie had found and disarmed a bomb positioned near the back of the hospital, just outside its perimeter, earlier. There'd been almost an hour on its clock, plenty of time to evacuate the hospital with the forewarning they'd gotten. The last few civilians were currently evacuating and a few MSF staff were still running around, downloading patient records and the like, but in a few minutes, the hospital would be empty. They'd already swept most of the building, and it was clear so far.

But none of the taskforce were able to shake the feeling of unease they all felt.

 _It was too easy._

 _He's good, and it's never this easy._

 _He never uses only one bomb. He has to know that we know that by now._

 _He had to know that we'd find that one, and that we'd evacuate the hospital and search it thoroughly for a second._

 _And he's never so sloppy that we get this much warning…_

… _There was so much chaos, earlier, there really still is, MSF staff running around saving medical records…_

Mac paused in his pacing and swore.

'He _wanted_ us to evacuate the hospital. They're not the target; _we_ are.' Jack, Davies and Charlie, who were all in the room with him, looked up at him, realization dawning on their faces. 'He's using the chaos of the evacuation as cover to plant the second bomb after we started sweeping the hospital. He doesn't care about the civilians, he wants us caught in here when the second bomb goes off!'

Davies grabbed his radio.

'You heard MacGyver, get the rest of the civilians out of here! Keep an eye out for him or any of his devices!'

* * *

Mac and Jack ran through the corridors of the hospital. They were searching the east side. Charlie and Davies had the west, while the rest of the commandos finished the evacuation and searched the grounds and the basement. Chances are, the bomb would be in an area they'd already swept.

'MacGyver, we need you over here now, Room 31. Ground floor, west side.'

Davies' voice sounded over the radio.

Mac and Jack exchanged a glance, and ran.

* * *

They burst into the room.

Davies was cuffing an unconscious man, who was bleeding profusely from the knee.

Mac and Jack recognized him in an instant.

The man they'd spent six years chasing.

The Ghost.

At long last.

But it wasn't all good news.

In the centre of the room, Charlie was dealing with the bombmaker's last gift to them.

Without a word, Davies hefted The Ghost onto his shoulder, none too gently, and left the room, while Mac rushed over to help Charlie.

'Jack, you need to keep searching. We know he always uses more than one bomb. Maybe this time he used three.'

The older man nodded and ran out of the room.

* * *

Mac and Charlie exchanged a horrified glance.

A bomb _within_ a bomb.

They'd disarmed the first one…but inside, there was a second one.

 **1:23**

 **1:22**

 **1:21**

 _There's no time…_

 _We'll never get clear…_

 _Unless…_

 _Dumbwaiter, probably used to transport things to and from the basement…_

'Guys, get out of here! _Now_!'

Mac seized the bomb and tossed it down the dumbwaiter shaft. He shoved a bed against the opening and ran after Charlie.

 _Thank God we're on the ground floor…_

 _We just might have a chance…_

'BOOM!'

* * *

Mac had a brief moment of awareness.

His head ached.

His ears rang.

There was something heavy lying across his legs, but it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.

He knew, intellectually, that he should be in terrible pain, but he wasn't.

Was he just in shock?

Or was this what dying was like?

He struggled to raise his head, but all he could see around him was darkness and rubble.

He could feel his consciousness growing weaker and weaker as he struggled to stay awake.

Unbidden, he thought of Nikki and the diamond ring he had sitting in his sock drawer back home in their apartment for her.

Well, at least Jack and Bozer knew.

Even if Jack hadn't made it out either, Bozer would make sure she got it.

The darkness took him again.

* * *

'Hang in there, Staff Sergeant! Agent Dalton, what is the ETA on that med-evac?'

That voice sounded vaguely familiar, a lot like that fierce young female doctor from earlier…

'Come on, brother, you gotta pull through! We got him, and zero casualties to boot! I owe you at least half a dozen drinks, come on, brother…'

Jack.

Mac slipped under again.

* * *

'Sein rechtes Bein ist zu schwer verletzt; wir müssen...'

The air seemed cleaner here.

Less dust.

Mac tried to open his eyes, but he was too weak, and they felt too heavy…

He lapsed back into unconsciousness again.

* * *

Chapter song: Skyfall, Adele.


	2. If You Close Your Eyes

AN: Thanks for the amazing response to the first chapter; I hope you guys continue to enjoy this story!

* * *

 **BETHESDA HOSPITAL**

 **MARYLAND**

* * *

When Mac woke properly, it was to the most beautiful sight he'd seen in a long, long time.

'Are you an angel? 'Cause I think I've died and gone to heaven…'

He smiled up at the beautiful blonde woman sitting by his bedside, clasping one of his hands in both of hers.

Nikki let out a shaky laugh, and reached up to brush his cheek lightly with her hand.

'Oh, they definitely gave you the good drugs, Mac…'

He smiled goofily up at her again, then his expression slowly turned serious.

'Jack? Charlie? Davies?-'

Nikki cut him off by resting a finger gently on his lips.

'They're all okay, Mac. Davies and the rest of the commandoes are fine; that's all they'll tell me. You, Jack and Charlie got the worst of it. Jack's just down the corridor and Charlie's a floor down.' At Mac's questioning look, she continued. 'You're at Bethesda.'

He struggled to sit up.

 _It's a long way from Afghanistan to Maryland…_

'How long have I been out?'

Nikki bit her lip, reaching for his hand again.

'Mac, you were pretty badly hurt…They won't let me know much, but Jack says that you saved them all…'

He finally managed to pull himself into some sort of sitting position.

At least, into some sort of position where he could see his feet.

Or at least, see where his feet were supposed to be.

He only had one.

Instead of a hump in the blanket like on the left side, where his lower right leg should be, the blanket was flat. He'd lost his right leg, just below the knee.

Strangely, his thoughts jumped instantly to Nikki and the ring in his sock drawer, hidden in a pair of gag-gift socks his engineering buddies had bought him years ago.

'That's going to make getting down on one knee real hard…'

And he blacked out again.

* * *

Mac glanced up at his girlfriend, who was sitting in a chair by his bedside, working on her laptop. (Nikki worked for Google. She'd worked there ever since they'd graduated from MIT, seven years ago.) He'd been awake for three days, and despite the fact that she'd been by his bedside ever since he'd arrived at Bethesda, according to the nurses, she seemed a little distant, a little off.

'Does…does it bother you?' He indicated the stump where his right leg ended. 'The scars…that…that I'm not…'

Inwardly, he cursed himself.

He'd not been so awkward for a long, long time, not since the very early days of his relationship with Nikki, back when he was a skinny, shy sixteen-year-old engineering student.

Nikki looked up, and reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

'No, of course not, Mac. It doesn't change a thing for me.'

He smiled at her reassurance.

'You still love me, despite…?'

Nikki put down her laptop, and leaned over to embrace him gently. He couldn't see her face when she responded, but her voice sounded just as it had every other time she said those magic words.

' _Of course_ I still love you, Mac.'

He smiled.

'I love you too.'

She let go of him, and picked up her laptop again, glancing at the time.

'It's nearly three, Jack should be here soon.'

The doctors had finally agreed to allow Jack (who was still wheelchair-bound due to rather severe damage to one of his knees) to visit Mac in his room.

Mac was looking forward to the visit.

So was Jack.

The older man had apparently been alternately driving the nurses insane with his annoyingness and charming his way back into their good graces.

Mac looked forward to teasing him about it.

 _Focus on the good things._

 _I'm alive._

 _I'm relatively okay._

 _Jack's alive._

 _Jack's okay._

 _Charlie's okay, Davies is okay, everyone else is okay._

 _No-one died in the hospital._

 _We got The Ghost._

 _Nikki's here._

 _She loves me, I love her, and we have each other._

 _Focus on the good things…_

* * *

'Hey, brother!' Jack reached out and hugged Mac, despite the protests of the two nurses in the room. (Nikki had left; she wanted to give the two some privacy, and she had a conference call she had to take.)

After a moment, Jack gently released him and reached out to fluff his hair, as short as it was. Mac glared at him, because Jack knew he hated that, and the older man only smirked in response, before his expression changed to something more serious. The nurses quietly took their leave.

'I…I thought I'd lost you for a moment, brother.' He paused, lost in a memory. 'Actually, longer than a moment, and more than once.' He reached out and squeezed Mac's shoulder. 'You're lucky to be alive.' Mac nodded solemnly. He'd been told that many times over the last couple of days. Jack paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was slightly hoarse. 'You did a lot of good, brother, saved a lot of lives…but don't you ever, _ever_ do that again!'

Mac smiled wanly at Jack.

'It was part of the job...' He looked down at his leg. 'But I guess that's not going to be my job any longer, so no need to worry, old man.'

Jack, of course, saw through Mac's attempt at deflecting the issue, but he didn't really know what to say (Mac _would_ be getting a medical discharge, after all), so he just reached out and squeezed the younger man's forearm. He made a note to make sure Mac got a professional to talk to.

'So, kid, the nurses tell me that your girl's been by your side ever since you got here. When are you going to do something with that rock you bought?'

Mac smiled broadly at the older man.

'As soon as I can get my hands on it! Apparently I'm being sent to a rehab centre in a couple of days for a couple of weeks, but after that, I get to go home, and then…well, there's no time like the present.'

'You know, you could probably ask Bozer to pop by and get it for you, if there's no time like the present…'

Bozer, Mac's best friend, currently working as a fry cook and making films on the side, had followed Mac from Mission City, California, to Boston for college, attending MassArt, and then to Washington D.C. when Nikki had landed a job at Google's offices there and Mac had been officially assigned to Fort McNair. Since Mac was part of a special taskforce, he wasn't stateside all that often, but when he was, he taught occasionally at the National Defense University. Bozer insisted that it was because in D.C, he had access to spectacular sets and was right in the thick of political happenings, so had great inspiration for his movies, but Jack suspected that his decision to move to D.C had more than a fair bit to do with Mac.

Bozer would happily pop over to Mac and Nikki's to get the ring for his best friend, but Jack already had an idea what Mac's answer would be.

The blonde shrugged, seemingly casually, glancing around the hospital room.

'You know she'd notice, him popping in to get something for me. I can't have her getting suspicious, after all. It's meant to be a surprise!'

Just as Jack thought. Nikki wasn't home, she was at Bethesda with Mac, so of course she wouldn't notice Bozer popping in. That wasn't the problem. Mac didn't want to propose to his girlfriend while so noticeably and obviously still an invalid.

There was _some_ level of macho man in him, after all.

But poking into this seemed way above his pay grade and level of experience (he'd leave this to the professionals, for now, and just try and be here for the younger man), and Mac frankly seemed better off than a lot of other soldiers who'd lost limbs he'd seen, so he let it lie.

Jack reached out and punched Mac very, very lightly in the arm. (Kid was still recovering, after all.)

'Don't think it's going to be a surprise after nine years, kid! You've been dragging your feet!'

Mac scoffed.

'And who was the one who told me not to get tied down to one filly so young?'

Jack raised his hands in supplication.

'That was _one_ time! You were nineteen, and I didn't realize how serious you two were at the time!'

* * *

Chapter song: Pompeii, Bastille.


	3. She Cut Your Hair

AN: I think I'm not very popular right now (I don't blame you, to be honest – on some level, I was not happy with myself for writing the start of this fic either! This plot bunny just took hold and would not let go- this fic is 36,000 words long, and I wrote it in about four days. It ended up becoming what is, in my opinion, possibly the best thing I've ever written and definitely the best of my four _MacGyver_ fics.), but if you're still sticking with this, I'm very grateful. Just stick with me for at least two more chapters, this one and then the next, please? I promise (Mac-promise, and you know he never breaks his promises!) that there's a light at the end of this tunnel.

* * *

 **SEPTEMBER 2015**

 **MAC AND NIKKI'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C.**

* * *

 _I have never been so grateful that our building has an elevator._

Mac made his way out of the elevator and towards his apartment door, following just behind Nikki. He was still a little slow with the crutches, not quite used to them yet. His girlfriend unlocked the apartment door, and they stepped inside.

He looked around, glad to be out of hospital and the rehab centre and home at last.

What he saw caused his buoyed spirits to sink.

He and Nikki had been together a long time, and lived together a long time.

Long enough that distinctions between _her_ stuff and _his_ stuff had seemingly largely disappeared.

But now, everything that had at some point been _Nikki's_ was gone from their home.

The throw blanket on the couch that she loved to cuddle under in the winter, that painting on the living room wall that she adored but Mac secretly hated, the tea set in an ornate box that her grandmother had given her that normally sat pride of place on a shelf in the kitchen.

Her coats no longer hung on the coat hooks by the door, and every last pair of her shoes were gone from the shoe rack.

There was a suitcase and a duffle bag by the door, just next to where they stood.

Mac turned and looked at his girlfriend (or should it be ex-girlfriend, now?). He saw the sadness in her eyes, but also the resoluteness.

He felt something break inside him. Tears welled up in his eyes.

'These last weeks; sitting by my bedside, looking after me, was it all a lie?'

Nikki sighed and looked down, reaching out and putting her hand on her suitcase's handle.

'You were gone, Mac. _All_ the time. You were so far away, and we could barely talk…'

That was all true, yes, but he was serving his country, protecting the innocent, protecting _her_ , really, and he'd sent her emails, and presents, and even old-fashioned letters whenever he could. There was a bowl of paperclips bent into various shapes, paperclip charms, on their coffee table. Little tokens that he'd sent her, made from the paperclips that he took everywhere with him. Signs that she was never really out of his thoughts.

She looked up at him.

'I was so lonely, Mac…' She looked down again, unable to meet his eyes. 'I met someone, earlier this year, at work.' She looked up at him briefly, then at the wall. 'We were just friends at first, I swear. I never intended to…' Mac felt his heart shattering. In many ways it hurt more than losing his leg. '…but it happened. A couple of months ago.' She looked up at him, eyes teary and almost regretful. But only almost. 'I…I tried to tell you, I really did, but…it didn't feel like something I could tell you over a screen!' She paused for a moment and bit her lip. 'And then you got hurt…and what was I supposed to do? Break up with a wounded war hero while he lay in hospital because I met another man?'

Mac fought hard to hold back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

 _The worst thing is…she has a point._

'Nikki…I…I _love_ you.'

She sighed and looked down. For the first time, she didn't say it back.

'I'm sorry, Mac.'

And she tossed the duffle bag over her shoulder, grabbed the suitcase, and walked out of the door.

Mac staggered over to the couch, unsteady on his crutches. He sank down into the cushions, and picked up the piece of paper on the coffee table.

The note in Nikki's handwriting informed him that the rent and the bills had been paid for the next month, so he didn't have to worry about that.

(She'd always been the one to pay the rent and the bills on their apartment, since she made more and Mac wasn't there all that often.)

He gave a harsh bark of bitter laughter and tore the note to shreds, then started sobbing.

 _I love her._

 _I tried._

 _I tried so hard._

 _I know it was difficult._

 _I was lonely, too._

 _I missed her so, so much._

 _Wondered, even, if I was doing the right thing. If I should just give up and come home._

 _But I thought she understood._

 _She said she did. She never complained. I asked her, so many times, and she said she understood!_

He reached out and knocked the bowl of paperclip shapes over. Picking up one of the spilt paperclips, he reworked it into a new shape.

A heart, cut in two with jagged edges.

 _I love her, and I tried so hard…_

* * *

Eventually, the tears stopped and Mac exhaled a shuddering breath.

He looked around the apartment again.

He couldn't stay here.

Not in this place that had been _theirs._

He pulled out his phone.

 **To: Bozer**

 **I really need a lift. Can you come to my place, please?**

He sat there, still, for a moment.

Bozer was his best friend, aside from Jack, who was really more his brother-in-arms, brother-in-all-but-blood.

He typed out another couple of sentences and sent the text.

 **Nikki left me. I can't stay here.**

He got up, slowly, painstakingly, and picked up the duffle bag he'd brought home with him, and slowly, painstakingly, made his way out of the apartment.

* * *

 **BOZER'S CAR**

 **OUTSIDE JACK'S BUILDING**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Bozer watched as his best friend slowly made his way into the building.

The blonde had insisted on doing this on his own, and had refused to let Bozer accompany him.

After all these years of being friends, Bozer had learned his tells well enough.

Mac wanted a moment to be alone, before he had to tell the whole sorry tale again.

The aspiring filmmaker slammed his fist down on his seat.

Nikki had broken his best friend's heart, well and truly.

Bozer had stood up for Mac, protected him and cared for him as best he could since they were in the 5th grade and he'd broken Donnie Sandoz's nose to defend the younger boy.

Right now, he was sort of tempted to go and break Nikki's nose.

Maybe that was kind of unfair.

Mac _had_ spent the better part of the last seven years away.

And yes, while he was in the Army, serving a noble cause and all, he was still _away_. Bozer understood the strain that would put on a relationship.

But hey, Mac had managed to maintain his friendships. With him, with Penny, even his engineering buddies from college…he'd worked hard not to lose those connections, sending them emails, even presents for birthdays and holidays.

And when he was stateside, he spent as much time as he could with his loved ones.

And Nikki had always, always been his number one priority.

Bozer had seen that bowl of paperclip charms on their coffee table.

Little symbols, little tokens of affection that Mac had made for her, because she was often on his mind, though he was so far away, and sent back home to her from God-knows-where.

His best friend could not have done anything more.

Heck, there was a ring sitting in his sock drawer.

Mac had confided to him, probably about three years ago now, that after his taskforce's work was done (doing _what_ , Bozer didn't know), that he intended to apply for discharge and return home to Nikki.

The last time he'd been stateside, Mac had even said that despite the responsibility he felt to finish off the job, he was seriously considering applying for discharge once his most recent deployment ended, because he was so sick of leaving Nikki, because he missed her so much. (And his other friends, he'd insisted, but Bozer was certain it was mostly her, and he was old enough and wise enough to understand that being in love was like that.)

Mac, who carried responsibility on his shoulders like Atlas carried the world, who was _so_ driven by whatever work the taskforce did (Bozer was quite sure it had to do with the death of Mac's C.O, six years ago. And if it was that, given how heavily the deaths he'd seen weighed on Mac, he'd thought that Mac would _never_ stop until he'd finished the job.), considered giving it up for Nikki.

If that wasn't true love, Bozer didn't know what was.

And yet, she'd cheated on him, lied to him and broken his heart.

Mac had been a little more sympathetic when he'd told Bozer the story, but Bozer was pulling no punches. That's what she'd done, she could deal with the terminology. Something like this didn't happen overnight, she must have been having doubts; Mac had been stateside not even eight months ago. She should have said something then, instead of sending him off to war without even a hint that something was wrong on the home front.

Mac was probably a little too trusting and slightly oblivious by nature, but Bozer firmly placed the blame on Nikki for this. She knew Mac. She knew what he was like. If there was something wrong, she should have made it clear to him, instead of carrying on like always.

He sighed and started his car.

He could only hope that his best friend would pull through.

Hopefully Jack would be able to help.

* * *

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Jack listened to Mac's sorry, sorry tale, tamping down the anger he felt, channelling that protectiveness into comfort instead. Anger wouldn't help. Comfort might.

He'd been an Army man, then a CIA man. Nikki leaving Mac, that he could understand. As hard as the younger man had tried, the sort of life they led did not lend itself well to maintaining relationships. Two people could love each other with all their hearts, fight as hard as they could for their love, and sometimes it still wasn't enough. No-one's fault.

But the way that she'd gone about it? Not giving a single hint that something was wrong? Jack knew, knew that Mac had talked to her about this, and Mac had told him that Nikki understood. Understood what he felt he had to do, the obligation he thought he carried. Understood that he always wanted to come home to her, but that he also had a job to do. Understood what it meant to be an Army spouse, even if Mac hadn't asked yet.

Still, he pushed away that anger, and reached over to embrace the man he'd adopted as his brother, who by now was sobbing.

'I'm sorry, brother. I'm so, so sorry…'

Mac cried into his shoulder. He would probably ruin his shirt, not that Jack gave a damn.

A shirt was a shirt.

Mac was his brother, and his heart was so big that Jack considered it priceless.

* * *

Later, Jack and Mac sat on the former's couch, eating Chinese takeaway.

Or rather, Jack dug into his General Tso's chicken while Mac poked at his beef lo mein with his chopsticks.

Jack put down his food.

'You know why I'm still single, brother?'

Mac gave up the pretence of eating.

'Sarah.'

Jack sighed. He'd told Mac many stories about his former CIA partner.

'Yes, I loved her. Part of me will always love her, I think.' He shook his head. 'But it's been ten years, Mac. Nearly eleven, now, since I last saw her. Since she got married.' He leaned back on the couch, looking into the younger man's eyes. 'Plenty of time for there to have been another woman. Or two. Or three.' Mac knew that was true. About five years ago, there'd been a woman that'd been serious enough for Jack to meet her daughter. The woman's name was Diane Davis, if Mac remembered correctly. 'Plenty of time to have loved again.' Jack shook his head sadly. 'But it's hard, with the lives we live. It really is.' He leaned over and clasped Mac's shoulder. 'Now, I'm not saying that what she did wasn't wrong, because it was, but what I am saying is that it's not on you, brother. You tried. You fought. You did everything you could, and it didn't work out.'

Mac nodded slowly.

'I wonder if I'd left…if I'd come home, whether…' He looked down at his pinned-up right trouser leg. '…whether I'd still have her and not be missing...'

'You've still got most of it.' Mac gave a snort of somewhat bitter half-laughter. Jack counted that as a win. 'And you can consider the maybes and what-could-have-beens forever in that big brain of yours, brother, but could you have done it? Come home, with The Ghost still out there?'

Jack knew the answer, of course.

Mac was the most idealistic soldier he'd ever met. Biggest heart, too.

He was genuinely out there to save lives and do good. Hated firing a gun. Hated killing, hated losing a life, no matter who.

Jack was pretty sure he'd made it through seven years in the Army through sheer stubbornness, a ridiculous ability to improvise ways to incapacitate and capture without killing, that idealism and a knack for compartmentalizing.

Together with the taskforce, Mac and Charlie had set a new record for number of bombs disarmed in a single three-month period. And broken that record several times.

Saved thousands of lives, soldiers and civilians.

And then they'd caught The Ghost, and saved more lives than they could ever count. Everyone that man would ever have targeted.

Mac sighed, glancing at his leg again, then looked back up at Jack.

'No, I couldn't have.' He looked down at his leg again, and when he spoke, his voice was softer. 'Even…even if I could do the hospital again. Not take the time to save those four people on life support, and use it to deal with that last bomb better instead…' He patted his right knee with his hand. 'In the end…I wouldn't do anything differently.'

Jack slung his arm around the blonde's shoulders.

It was no straight swap; who knew what would have happened if Mac hadn't taken the time to evacuate the ICU patients? But Jack understood what the younger man was saying. Four lives, four people who might not have made it anyway, for about a third of his right leg, and he'd do it all again, with the trauma still so raw.

Kid was the best man Jack knew.

And that was only confirmed by Mac's next words.

'…In fact, Jack…part of me keeps telling the rest of me that I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be being _selfish_ , sitting here wallowing. We got The Ghost, but there's still many others like him out there...' Mac gestured at himself. 'And I know that I can't do what I used to…but I still feel like I should be doing _something!'_

Jack sat up straight and jabbed a finger, none too gently, into Mac's chest, making a mental note to tell the younger man's shrink to talk to Mac about this.

'Brother, you are injured. Injured in the line of duty. _Badly_ injured in the line of duty. You've spent seven years laying down your life for your country, for the innocent. You've paid a pretty big price. You got out of hospital _today_. You are _definitely_ entitled to be selfish for a while. In fact, I reckon you're entitled to be selfish and do not much else for the rest of your life. Probably a lot of people out there who'd agree with me. But I know you won't do that, because you're _you_. Because you're a great man and you always want to help.' Jack clasped his forearm. 'But you've got to get better first, or you're not going to be much help. Won't do anyone any good if you run yourself into your grave by the time you're thirty. So promise me you'll try and focus on getting better, _without_ feeling guilty about it, at least for a little while?'

Mac smiled wanly at him.

'I promise, Jack.' He picked up his container of lo mein and took a bite. 'Thanks. For everything.'

Jack smiled back at him and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair. Instead, he reached out and took the container of takeout out of Mac's hands.

'Let me heat that up for you, brother. It's not much good cold.'

* * *

Chapter song: Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen.

AN: *ducks for cover and crosses fingers that you have actually read all the way to here*

We have reached the absolute bottom, don't worry. Things can only go one way from here- up! (Trust me, I'm not capable of writing a dark!fic for long- to paraphrase from this chapter's song, this story is definitely minor fall, major lift, in terms of focus. It is a recovery and, above all, friendship fic. )


	4. If the Sky Comes Falling Down

AN: I would like to state that absolutely everything I have written in the _MacGyver_ fandom (which might include a half-written fic that I'm working on right now, but I do not know if I will finish now) was all completely written pre-1.12, Screwdriver, so there will be no references to any canon after 1.11, Scissors.

Please watch Screwdriver before you read the rest of this AN, which is at the end of the chapter to facilitate that.

* * *

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

'Jack, can I ask you for a favour?'

The older man looked up at the twenty-five year old veteran, who'd been camping out in his guest room for the last week.

'Of course, brother.'

Mac smiled at him, taking a bite of his poppyseed bagel, chewing and swallowing.

'I want to go see Pena's wife and daughter on Saturday. Could you give me a lift?'

Jack reached over and clapped the younger man on the shoulder.

'You haven't met the little girl, have you?'

Mac nodded. He'd not been able to bring himself to go visit the widow and her daughter, not when their husband and father was dead and he was alive and Pena's killer was still out there.

Jack just squeezed his shoulder in sympathy.

'We'll go on Saturday morning, after my appointments.'

Jack had physiotherapy and a shrink session early on Saturday mornings.

Mac nodded, ate another bite of his bagel, and smiled wanly up at Jack, lost in thought.

'Thanks.'

Jack got up, smiled down at the younger man, and not-so-subtly grabbed another poppyseed bagel out of the bag and put it on Mac's plate.

'Anytime, brother.' He glanced at his watch. 'And now I've got to get to work. Patty hates lateness.'

Mac shook his head as Jack rushed out the door as fast as he could, which was not that fast considering that his knee injury had been rather severe and he was still getting around with aid from a cane. Luckily, it was the left knee, so Jack could still drive without issue.

It was Thursday, and just that previous Monday, Jack had started a new job, working at the Phoenix Foundation, a government think-tank that dealt primarily with national security and defence. Patty was Patricia Thornton, Jack's new boss, whom Mac was pretty sure would kill him for calling her that. He'd had the choice between joining the Phoenix or working a desk job at the CIA, due to the severity of his knee injury and his already somewhat-dodgy knees (Jack was over forty and more than twenty years in the Army and the CIA would do that). He would never be able to go back into the field, a fact that caused Mac quite a lot of guilt until Jack had set the record straight. (Mac hadn't planted the bombs, hadn't threatened the hospital, and he'd done everything he could. Frankly, it was probably due to Mac that Jack was even alive in the first place.) Still, he couldn't quite shake that feeling yet…

Mac envied Jack, being able to get back to work, doing something productive, something good, so soon.

But Jack, and Bozer, and all his doctors, and his psychologist all insisted that he wasn't ready, and deep down, he knew they were right. For now, he had to be content to work hard on his recovery, do all his physiotherapy exercises as prescribed and attend his medical appointments at the rehab centre and his sessions with the shrink.

Though, it wasn't as if he couldn't do anything useful at all.

Mac was quite aware that while Jack insisted he had no objection, he really couldn't live in Jack's guest room forever. He and Bozer had been talking quite seriously about moving back in together, just like they'd lived for a while back in Mission City after Mac's grandfather had passed away and during Mac's second and final year at MIT. In fact, Bozer would be at Jack's in about half an hour to look at places online with him.

Bozer was very excited; they'd be able to afford a place with a proper kitchen, unlike what passed for the kitchen at the place he currently lived in. The fact that Mac hadn't spent much of his pay for the last seven years was definitely going to be helpful. He had quite a bit of money saved up. In fact, Mac was planning on buying a place for him and Bozer, and convincing his best friend to contribute rent towards the mortgage instead. He still didn't know where he was going to end up working, or when, but there was quite a lot of work in the D.C area for someone with his skill set and history, and he wanted to stay close to Jack and Bozer and Penny. Maybe he could teach at the National Defense University full-time.

Mac allowed himself to be lost in thought for a little while longer, then polished off the rest of his bagel, and the second one that Jack had given him.

Today was what his shrink would call a good day, and Mac wasn't inclined to disagree.

* * *

 **PENA FAMILY RESIDENCE**

 **MARYLAND**

* * *

Jack and Mac pulled up at the neat little house. Mac had called ahead, and a familiar brunette woman stood on the porch, while a little girl he'd never seen before (but was definitely her father's daughter; Mac could see the resemblance even from a distance) sat at a table in the front yard.

Mac took a deep breath and reached for his crutches.

Jack leaned over the centre console and clasped his shoulder in support.

'I'm proud of you, brother.'

The blonde smiled wanly and got out of the car. Jack remained seated. This was something that Mac had to do on his own.

Slowly, he made his way over to the woman, who embraced him warmly.

'Thank you, Mac. Thank you.'

(She'd been told that her husband's killer was brought to justice, even if she couldn't know the details.)

Balancing as best as he could, Mac hugged her back.

'Just doing my duty, ma'am.'

She let go of him and smiled, shaking her head.

'Rachel, please, or Mrs Pena, if you must.'

He nodded.

'Okay, ma'am…sorry, Mrs Pena.'

She looked him up and down, eyes a little sad when she took in his pinned-up trouser leg.

'He'd have been proud of you, Mac. Always was, even if he didn't show it.'

Mac nodded and smiled, lost in a fond memory.

'I know, and maybe he never really said it, but I heard it, loud and clear.'

They shared a smile, remembering a man they both recalled with great affection.

Then, Mac made his way over to the little girl at the table and slowly sat down on one of the chairs opposite her.

'Hi, I'm Mac.'

The girl looked up at him for a moment.

'I'm Annabelle.'

She looked back down at the angel doll she held in her hands, fiddling with the wings.

'My doll's wings are broken.'

Her voice was sad.

'Can I see?'

Mac held out a hand, and Annabelle handed him the doll. He examined the mechanism for a moment, pulled a couple of things and his Swiss Army knife out of his pockets, made a few small repairs, and then handed it back to her.

 _All fixed._

 _If only everything in life could be fixed so easily._

Annabelle fluttered her doll's wings and, satisfied, smiled up at him.

'My mama says that my daddy's gone to live with the angels.'

Mac swallowed and nodded.

'Your mama sounds like a smart woman.'

The girl cocked her head at him.

'Did you know my daddy?'

He swallowed again.

'Yeah, I did.'

Annabelle reached for the plastic teapot in the middle of the table. She poured him a cup of imaginary tea, then a cup for herself and one for her doll.

'Can you tell me about him?'

He took his cup of 'tea' and pretended to drink.

'Your dad was a really, really brave man. I bet you know that already, but you might not know that…'

* * *

Jack and Mac drove back to Jack's place in comfortable silence.

As they neared home, Jack glanced at the clock and nodded.

'We've got plenty of time to get scrubbed up for the ceremony, I reckon.'

Mac sighed.

'Do I have to go?'

They pulled in to the garage in Jack's building, and Jack parked the car and placed a gentle hand on the younger man's shoulder.

'I hate the monkey suits and the fancy brass as much as you do, brother, but you're getting a Purple Heart and a Silver Star. Not something to be sneezed at. It's your country's way of saying thank you for everything you've done.'

Mac shook his head, staring off into the distance for a moment, before turning back to Jack.

'I did what had to be done.' He reached out and grasped Jack's shoulder. 'And you know I didn't do it alone. Without you, without Charlie, without Pena, and Davies, and everyone else…'

Jack just smiled at him.

'And that's why you're a hero, brother.'

* * *

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Later that night, Mac shoved the Purple Heart and the Silver Star into his sock drawer.

 _I don't often think this, but I think Jack's wrong._

 _I don't think I'm a hero._

 _I'm just a guy who's always tried to do the right thing._

 _And I don't always succeed._

 _I don't always bring everyone home safe._

 _And I know that's not on me, I know that, intellectually, just like I know, intellectually, that I fit pretty much every common definition of a hero._

 _Still, it doesn't sit well with me._

 _Not bringing everyone home._

 _Being hailed a hero._

 _It just doesn't sit right, not when it's me, not Pena, sitting there drinking pretend tea with his daughter…_

 _But I guess I can't really change that._

 _I can't change the past._

 _I can't really change what other people think or say._

 _Guess all I can do is look to the future, try and keep doing what good I can._

 _Keep being that guy who's always tried to do the right thing._

* * *

Chapter song: Hey Brother, Avicii.

AN: I have written a 1900 word rant/analysis of Screwdriver. I'm warning you, if you ask my opinion on this episode, I will send that to you, so be prepared. I have also written three alternate endings to Screwdriver, which I have posted as _Permutations_. (That was my attempt to deal with all of my feelings about that episode.)

Back to this story- I'd like to say that this is almost certainly not a realistic depiction of PTSD (it is actually rather borderline whether the Mac depicted in this story has what is clinically defined as PTSD, though he definitely has some symptoms) and recovery; what I'm shooting for is a realistic depiction of _Mac_ in this situation- frankly, in canon, he copes far, far better with the issues he's got to have from his time in the Army and what he goes through at work than I think a real person ever could, hence the coping with his situation far better than I think an average person realistically would.


	5. Sending Big Waves Into Motion

**REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

 _Just five more reps…_

 _Five more…_

 _Five…four…three…two…one…_

Mac finished his last set of exercises for the day, and slumped down on the bench. His physiotherapist, Jonah, had been pushing him increasingly harder as he recovered. It bothered Mac sometimes, how weak he'd become (not even two months ago, this sort of exercise would have been easy), but as he kept telling his shrink and Jack and Bozer and just about everyone, he knew that it was perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

Jonah carefully removed the compression stocking on his right leg and examined the region around it.

Not wanting to watch, Mac looked over to the other patient in the room, a currently wheelchair-bound Marine perhaps a couple of years older than him. The man was chatting to his physiotherapist as she worked on his legs.

'…My girl's stuck by me all through this, and we've been together since high school, so I want to ask her to marry me…' The Marine (Mac was pretty sure his name was Pete, they'd spoken once or twice between reps) sighed. 'But I don't have the money for a ring for her…I know it doesn't really matter to her, I know she'll say yes, but still…I'd like to have something pretty for her…'

Jonah finished his examination, replaced the compression stocking, and gave Mac his homework for the next week.

Mac picked up his crutches and made his way out of the physiotherapy area, with a nod and a smile at Pete, who returned the gesture. He made his way slowly over to the office belonging to his psychologist, Dr Claire Lau.

* * *

'…It's weird, I know, but it almost seems to help that she was…cheating on me…before...' Mac gestured at his leg and shrugged, looking out the window, incapable of meeting Dr Lau's eyes. 'It helps that it wasn't because of my injuries, I guess.'

Helped that it wasn't because of the scars. Helped that it wasn't because of the weakness in his left leg, which he'd been told he'd been very lucky with, since it was expected to more or less completely heal. Helped that it wasn't because his luck had run out with his right.

Dr Lau nodded slowly and clasped her hands together on her desk.

'I can see how that would help, yes.' She gestured casually to his right leg. 'And how is your leg? I'm told you'll be ready for a temporary prosthesis very soon.'

Mac sighed.

'I'm fine with it. I really am. I told you I'd do it all again, and I meant it, I promise.'

'That doesn't mean it doesn't bother you from time to time.'

Mac reached up and ran his hand through his hair. It was starting to get a little too long for regs, but he couldn't be bothered getting it cut. He wasn't a soldier anymore.

'I know, I know.' He sighed again. 'I'm…I'm coming to terms with it.' He paused for a moment. 'I was never a fan of wearing shorts anyway.' Then he smirked. 'And you know, when I was a kid, I thought it'd be pretty cool to be part-robot? Well, now I can be.'

Dr Lau eyed him carefully, seemingly unconvinced by his bravado (Mac didn't blame her, sometimes he wasn't entirely convinced by it either), trying to sort the truth from the lies (Mac didn't blame her for that either, he wasn't so sure how he felt about it half the time either). But, as they both knew, their hour was up, so she decided to let it lie, at least for this week.

 _Next week, I know she's not going to let it go…_

 _But at least that's another week for me to work on coming to terms with…my altered physical state._

* * *

 **MAC'S FORMER RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac sighed as he, seated on what used to be _their_ bed, rolled up his clothes and placed them in cardboard boxes.

Through the open door, he could hear Jack, Bozer and Penny chatting as they packed up the contents of the living room and the kitchen.

Mac wasn't going to pay the rent for another month on the apartment, particularly since he'd just bought a place and was moving in with Bozer next month, so here they were, packing up the contents of what had been home for seven years.

He sighed as he finished packing the last of his shirts. With the aid of his crutches, he made his way over to the closet and pulled out a shoebox, throwing that into a box on top of the shirts.

He made his way over to the chest of drawers and started packing the socks and underpants he hadn't taken to Jack's yet.

Eventually, he came across a pair of novelty socks (emblazoned with ridiculous dirty science jokes- _Physicists do it with vectors, Aerodynamicists do it in drag, Chemists do it periodically!)_ , and with a sad sigh, pulled the ring box tucked inside them out. He threw the socks in with his shirts and walked out into the living area with the ring box.

He'd decided to donate all the furniture and dishes and even the television to charity. Bozer already had a good deal of stuff, and Mac didn't want to have to sit on _their_ couch or eat off _their_ dining table. At least this way, all of this stuff that he never wanted to see again could do some good. He'd found a charity that helped survivors of domestic violence set up new homes that had been keen to take all of the furnishings and homewares. Maybe he could give them the ring, too.

 _Not sure what they'd do with a diamond ring, but maybe they can raffle or auction it off to raise funds._

His friends conspicuously stopped and looked worriedly at him when he came out holding the distinctive box.

'You okay, brother?'

'Alright, bro?'

'Oh, Mac…'

Penny came over and hugged him, while Jack and Bozer each patted him on the back.

'I'm okay, guys. Thanks for your concern, but I'm _not_ still in love with Nikki.'

He winced inwardly at how false (he wasn't over her, even if he didn't think _love_ was quite appropriate anymore either) that sounded, and from the concerned glances his friends gave each other, they didn't buy it either.

But they let it go, and slowly, with a last few pats on his back, went back to packing up the apartment.

Before she went back to boxing all the dishes, Penny squeezed his shoulder gently.

'If you ever need someone to talk to, someone who isn't your psychologist, but has some clue what she's doing, I'm here, Mac.'

Mac smiled wanly up at his ex-girlfriend and still-friend.

'You were a theatre major, Penny.'

She jabbed him lightly in the chest with a finger.

'With a minor in psychology!'

He gave a half-laugh, and put an arm around her shoulders.

'Thanks, Penny.'

She smiled and went back to boxing bowls.

Mac looked back down at the ring box.

 _And then, it hit me._

 _I bought this out of love._

 _I meant to give it out of love._

… _Maybe it still can be given out of love._

He tucked the ring into his pocket.

* * *

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Later that night, in his room at Jack's, Mac grabbed the shoebox from his box of shirts, and opened it. He dropped the Purple Heart and the Silver Star into the box, where they joined several other similar honours, put the lid on the shoebox, and shoved it into the closet.

He pulled the ring box out of his pocket and set it on the bedside table, smiling wanly as he changed for bed.

At least he had a use for the ring.

* * *

 **REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

After he finished his last set and Jonah told him he was free to go, instead of heading right over to Dr Lau's office, Mac made his way across the room, over to where Pete was finishing up his session.

He pulled the ring box out of his pocket and handed it to the other man.

'I know it's none of my business, but I couldn't help but overhear your plans for your girl last week…' Pete opened the box, glanced at the contents, then looked back up at Mac in shock. 'I…I bought that for my girl…but we're not together anymore, and well, I don't have any use for it anymore.' Mac bit his lip awkwardly. 'I know you might think it's bad luck or something, and I won't be offended in any way if you don't want it, I promise…but I thought…well, I bought it with love in my heart…I think it should be given with it too.'

Pete just shook his head, and grinned up at him, reaching out to shake Mac's hand firmly.

'Thanks, man. Thanks.'

Mac gave him an answering smile.

Pete's pretty blonde physiotherapist (Cindy, according to her nametag) smiled at him too, and Mac found himself smiling back at her.

Feeling rather cheerful, he set off towards Dr Lau's office.

Today was a good day.

* * *

 **MAC'S FORMER RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac nodded with satisfaction as he glanced around the empty apartment. He handed the keys back to his former landlord, and walked out of the building with Jack by his side.

 _It's nice, really, leaving that place behind._

 _Nice, to know that it's firmly behind me now._

 _Freeing, really._

 _It was cleansing, to get rid of all our stuff, leave it all behind._

 _I guess there's something to be said about letting bygones be bygones, trying to move on from the past and not let it paralyze you._

 _Maybe someday, I'll be able to look fondly back on my time with Nikki without any bitterness, and just remember the good times._

 _Maybe someday, when enough time has passed._

 _They say time heals all wounds, after all._

Mac stared out the window as Jack drove. A half-formed thought, one that had been sitting in his mind, growing and forming since that fateful day in Afghanistan, burst out of his mouth.

'I think I'm going to write to my dad, Jack.'

Jack smiled slowly.

'I think that's a good idea, brother.'

* * *

 _Dear Dad,_

 _I know, it's been a long time. Thirteen years, actually. A lot's happened ever since, so I'm going to try and catch you up._

 _I'll start from the beginning. I won the School Science Fair in 8_ _th_ _grade. Mr Ericson actually got me entered into a District Science Fair, and then a State one…._

… _.You know, I didn't end up going to Prom. Bozer tried to make me, of course (it involved a bet and a pretty girl- do you remember Darlene Martin?), but there was a live shuttle launch on TV that I wanted to watch…_

* * *

Chapter song: Fight Song, Rachel Platten.

AN: Pete the Marine's name is in tribute to Pete Thornton, Mac's best friend in the original series (according to Wikipedia; I still haven't found a way to watch it yet- we don't have it on Netflix in Australia).


	6. Thick Skin and an Elastic Heart

AN: This chapter contains what is probably the most detailed description of what happened to Mac in (and after) that hospital in Afghanistan. It's not graphic, but it is there.

* * *

 **REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac looked down at the temporary prosthesis that now extended from his right knee, running a hand through his hair. He'd let it keep growing, and it was fairly long now, though still not quite as long as he'd worn it during his college days, before the Army. It helped, strangely, in some ways. At least now, when he looked in the mirror, he looked more like a civilian. Sometimes, he could almost see glimpses of the young, bright engineering student he used to be.

He looked back up at Dr Lau, who was waiting for his response.

'It just doesn't sit well with me. The accolades, being called a hero…I was just doing my job, my duty, doing the right thing…'

She nodded evenly.

'Most people would say that's what makes you a hero.' She paused for a moment. 'What about your teammates who pulled you from the rubble? What did you say to them? Or the medical personnel who saved your life? If you could, what would you say to them?'

Mac didn't even have to consider, he just responded immediately.

'Thank you. That's what I said to the guys, and that's what I'd say to the medics, of course. They saved my life. I owe them thanks, at the very least.'

'And what did your teammates say in return? What do you think the medical staff would say in return?'

Mac groaned and shook his head. Of course, his shrink had gone all shrink on him.

'They'd say that they were just doing their jobs.'

He sat there, hands in the pockets of his favourite brown leather jacket, playing with bits of lint for a moment, looking out the window.

'You know, I still don't know exactly what happened that day. After the blast.' He smiled wryly. 'Jack won't tell me. He says I'm not ready to hear it. Personally, I think he doesn't want me to ever hear it.'

'He wants to protect you.'

Mac looked sharply up at Dr Lau, hearing the _but_ in her tone. The psychologist continued.

'I'm not sure if you're ready to hear it, Mac. Unfortunately, there's not some checklist I can check off, and when you get a certain score, you're ready. But you've come quite a way, and I think you can handle the fallout, if it turns out you're not ready.'

Mac nodded, then gave a small smirk.

'Can I get that in writing, for Jack?'

Dr Lau gave a snort of amusement.

'Of course. I'll even write you out a prescription.'

Mac looked down thoughtfully at his prosthesis again. Of course, he'd already thanked his teammates, and the doctors and nurses and other staff at Bethesda and the rehab centre. But, even if he didn't remember it, he knew there must have been others who'd helped keep him alive to get to where he was now.

'…And I think I'm going to try and track down the rest of those medical staff. Give them my thanks.'

Dr Lau nodded and handed him a note, written on her official stationary, to give to Jack.

'I know they'll appreciate it, Mac. Even if it's just thanks for doing their job.'

He shook his head at the pointed nature of her tone, but smiled at her regardless, picked up his cane, and left her office.

* * *

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac sat down on the couch. Jack, who had picked him up and driven him home from the rehab centre after work, sat down next to him after a moment.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Mac broke it.

'Jack, I want to know exactly what happened that day.' Mac turned and looked at the older man, eyes imploring but resolute. 'Tell me, please.'

The older man hesitated, putting down the glass of orange juice in his hands.

'Brother…'

Mac pulled Dr Lau's note out of his pocket and handed it to Jack, a very small, wry smile on this face.

'I got a prescription, Jack. Don't want to deny me my proper treatment, do you?' Jack took it, read it and gave a snort of half-laughter. Mac turned more serious again. 'I want to know, Jack. I know you're protecting me, I appreciate it, but…I need to know, Jack.'

Jack sighed. Mac was right, of course. It didn't do the younger man any good to keep shielding him from what had happened forever. It had happened to him, and knowing exactly what had happened would help him to come to terms to it.

Jack threw his mind back to that horrible day, and started talking…

* * *

 **AUGUST 2015**

 **MSF HOSPITAL**

 **KUNDUZ**

 **AFGHANISTAN**

* * *

Jack ran through the hospital corridors, praying to whatever God might be listening that Mac and Charlie and the rest of the men would make it out okay.

He ran out of the door.

At that instant, a deafening boom sounded. There was a sharp pain in his left knee and he felt himself being flung forwards.

Then, there was darkness.

* * *

Jack came to, and found himself looking up into the face of a middle-aged man.

'Agent Dalton? I'm Dr Chris Garcia, you're-'

'Mac? Charlie?'

He knew that the commandoes had probably been ahead of him in leaving the building, but the EOD techs would have been behind him…

Davies moved into his field of vision, which was slowly expanding. Jack noticed that he was lying on the ground, a little way clear of the destroyed hospital.

'We all got out, Jack. I've called for a med-evac for you, Charlie and Mac.' Davies held up a sat-phone. Jack blinked and struggled to sit up. As he pulled himself upright, he caught sight of both EOD techs, covered in blood, and oh, God, what had happened to Mac's legs? A male doctor who looked to be in his mid-thirties was packing a nasty-looking gash on Charlie's head, while Daniels monitored his pulse. A female doctor who couldn't have been older than Mac was coolly giving Johnstone orders as she worked to stop the blonde EOD from bleeding out.

Jack started hauling himself over to Mac's side, seizing Davies' sat-phone and yelling into it as he went.

'This is Agent Dalton, what is the ETA on that med-evac?'

Dr Garcia reached out and grabbed his shoulder, gesturing to the two other doctors with his head.

'They're in the best hands they could be in; they're ER doctors. This is what they do best.'

Jack pulled himself out of the older man's grip and continued to resolutely make his way to Mac's side. The doctor glanced down at Jack's knee, where a piece of shrapnel was still firmly embedded, and at the two EOD techs, and seemed to come to a decision. He rushed over to Mac's side and addressed the female doctor. 'What can I do, Beth?'

Finally reaching his destination, or at least, as close as he could get without getting in the doctors' way, Jack tried to speak to the younger man, hoping that he could hear him.

'Come on, brother, you gotta pull through! We got him, and zero casualties to boot! I owe you at least half a dozen drinks, come on, brother…'

* * *

 **US MILITARY BASE**

 **KUNDUZ**

 **AFGHANISTAN**

* * *

Davies came in and sat down by Jack's bedside.

As soon as they'd been stabilized at the base hospital, Mac and Charlie had been evacuated urgently onwards to Germany. Jack would be following soon.

Davies took a swig of his water bottle, and shook his head.

'We were damn lucky it was a hospital.'

Jack nodded, unable to get the image of Mac just lying there, bloodied and looking like a corpse, out of his head. Apparently, they'd nearly lost him a couple of times, but at least he was relatively stable now, or so the doctors said.

Davies continued.

'We got most of the people pretty far away, too far to help, but as soon as the blast went off, those last few doctors to evacuate…they just looked at each other, and then a couple stayed with their patients and the rest just grabbed a couple of bags and started running….and we've barely pulled you three out of the rubble when they just push us aside and start doing their thing.' Davies smiled slightly, despite the situation. 'This little one, she couldn't have been more than 5'3, tells Johnstone, cool as you please, to get out of her way and just starts working on the kid.'

Jack nodded again, and Davies looked over at him. The tough Delta Force commando's face softened and he reached out and clasped Jack's shoulder.

'He's going to be okay, bud.'

Davies sounded as if he was trying to convince himself too.

* * *

 **JACK'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac swallowed as Jack finished telling the story.

He was more aware of what had happened afterwards.

In Germany, they'd amputated his leg and nearly lost him again. Then, after he'd been stabilized, he'd been evacuated back to Bethesda.

He looked down, then back up at Jack, making eye contact with the other man, whose eyes were rather watery.

'Jack, could you do me a favour?'

'Anything, brother.'

Mac gave him a half-smile.

'Help me track them down? The medics at base, the staff from the military hospital in Germany, the MSF doctors? So I can thank them?'

Jack nodded, and reached over to hug the younger man.

'Of course, brother, of course.'

* * *

It turned out to be a relatively difficult task.

Emailing the military hospital in Germany was easy to do, and it wasn't hard to get a message to the staff at the base in Kunduz, Afghanistan either.

It wasn't long before Mac received replies, which were more or less exactly as Dr Lau had predicted. Gratitude and appreciation for this thanks, but an insistence that they were just doing their jobs.

(Though, the reply from the Germans had included no small amount of teasing at the apparent terribleness of his German. He'd managed to learn Russian and Mandarin without too much trouble, and even picked up Italian fairly well for a short vacation with Nikki, but apparently German was beyond him. Mac had chuckled at the reply, printed it out and pinned it up on the corkboard in his room. And they said that Germans had no sense of humour…)

Tracking down the MSF doctors was a much harder task.

Jack remembered that one of the two who'd worked on Mac was a Dr Chris Garcia, and the other one was called Beth and she was an ER doctor. Mac remembered that they were the two doctors from the ICU. Between the two of them, they had decent physical descriptions, but it took a few days before they found contact details for Dr Chris Garcia, hospitalist at a Chicago hospital.

Mac immediately sent him an email.

* * *

 _Dear Staff Sergeant MacGyver,_

 _Your thanks is much appreciated, and I am very glad to hear that you are alright._

 _You owe a lot of people your life; maybe too many for you to even owe it to anyone at all, if that makes any sense. You owe it to yourself, to your teammates, to many doctors and medical personnel, and to your friend, Agent Dalton. He yelled at you pretty loud, and maybe he got through. Never discount the importance of being reminded you have something to fight for your life for._

 _I don't have contact details for Dr Pierre Lombard (he's from France), the doctor who worked on the other EOD, but here's Beth's email: Bethany. . If you're going to talk about owing your life to someone, you at least owe her your life more than you owe me. She's still deployed, and will be until June next year. (Came to Afghanistan straight out of her residency, and had been there only just over a month when the hospital was destroyed.) She's working with search-and-rescue in the Mediterranean. She'll be glad to hear from you._

 _And that reminds me- she said that she thanked you, and I know you'll say it was all part of your job, but I genuinely believe that you went above and beyond the call of duty. Certainly, I don't think any old soldier could have done what you did. Maybe no-one else could have done what you did, getting our ICU patients out like that. I think you'll be glad to know that all four made it. Thank you, for what you did, not just on my behalf, but on hers too. You gave us a miracle. It meant a lot to me, but a hell of a lot more to her. She's a very young doctor and an idealistic one. Really, thank you, from the bottom of my old heart._

 _Chris Garcia_

* * *

 _Dear Dr Taylor,_

 _Thank you for saving my life…_

* * *

 _Dear Dr Taylor,_

 _I guess I'm sending your own words right back at you, but I was just doing my job, and it really wasn't just me…_

* * *

 _Dear Beth,_

 _I don't really know where I picked all of that up. I've always liked figuring out how things worked, taking them apart and putting them back together again, and improving things- I guess I just picked it up, and then I went and studied engineering…_

* * *

 _Dear Beth,_

 _In response to your first question, I went to MIT. In response to your second question, yes, I graduated early. In response to your third question, I'm twenty-five. In response to your fourth question, the best kind of bagel is obviously poppyseed…_

* * *

Chapter song: Elastic Heart, Sia.

AN: The MSF does have a search-and-rescue operation in conjunction with Greenpeace- MSF doctors provide assistance both using boats and at boat landing sites in the Mediterranean and the MSF has been working in this region since 2002 in some capacity. The actual operation I refer to didn't actually start in reality until November 2015, but I'm taking some creative license here and shifting it several months earlier, to closer to the start of the current European refugee crisis.

I'm aware that it might not be canon that Mac knows Russian in the 2016 reboot (but apparently he did in the original series)- I originally thought it was when I wrote this, but then I re-watched Wire Cutter, and it seems that he can't read Cyrillic (though, from what I hear from friends who learn Russian, that doesn't necessarily mean he wouldn't speak Russian). This is not really an important detail at all, but I'm declaring that in this AU, Mac can speak Russian.

The stuff about Mac's German is me taking a dig at the fact that he speaks Mandarin and learnt Italian extremely rapidly, but doesn't appear to know German at all. (I have attempted to learn, at various points in time, Mandarin, German and Italian, and I swear that German is the easiest of the three if you are a native English speaker.)


	7. I Knew It Complete

**OCTOBER 2015**

 **REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac stared at Dr Lau's desk. More precisely, he stared at the paperclip lying on her desk. It must have just been left there, discarded from when she removed it to read a file or something. His fingers itched, and he kept staring at it, looking up at her every now and then, as he answered her questions.

'…Jack's still being his usual protective self…'

'…Bozer made me waffles the other day. It was a bad day, I think, but I still managed to get two down…'

'…I wrote another letter to my dad…I don't know, but at least we're talking…'

'…Yes, I'm still writing to my pen-pal. In a way, it's nice, to have someone who didn't know me before.'

He wasn't the same as he was before Afghanistan, before losing his leg and losing Nikki. He was jumpier (cars backfiring was a particularly bad sound), he had horrible, vivid nightmares, and there were days (his bad days) when he fell into darker, sadder moods than he ever recalled having, even when he lost his mom or his grandfather or his dad. His friends had been incredibly understanding, but sometimes Mac still felt the need, the yearning, to be his old self. For them. He and Dr Lau were working on it.

The psychologist looked up at him over her glasses. Mac sighed, and without being aware of what he was doing, reached out and grabbed the paperclip. He started unwinding it and shaping it, still unaware of what his hands were doing.

'You're never going to be exactly the same, Angus MacGyver. No-one is ever _exactly_ the same as they were a couple of months ago, least of all people who've been through major trauma like you have. I didn't know you before, but by all accounts, you seem to have made it through this remarkably similar to the old you.'

She looked pointedly at his hands.

Mac looked down, finally becoming aware of what he'd just done. In his fingers, he held a paperclip sun.

A paperclip charm, a token, a talisman.

First one he'd made since _before._

He looked up at Dr Lau, smiling wryly. The psychologist simply smiled her enigmatic little smile at him.

 _She's meticulously neat, of course she didn't leave the paperclip there by mistake._

 _She left it there for a reason._

* * *

'Leave me alone, Eric! I said we are over!'

A man, older and dressed in a suit and tie, had cornered one of the nurses, a pretty young woman with long brown hair and a German accent, in the car park. At her words, he reluctantly got into his (very expensive) car and drove off.

Mac, who had walked out into the carpark to wait for Jack, walked over to her.

'Are you alright?'

The young woman jumped slightly, then nodded.

'Yes, my ex is just…well, not good at recognizing that we are very much over.'

Mac nodded slowly and held out a hand to her.

'I'm Angus MacGyver, but everyone calls me Mac. If he won't leave you alone, I or pretty much any vet who comes here, will help you out, if you need.'

 _It's really rather sexist, but even the worst (male) bully will usually have some respect for a bigger and stronger man, particularly one who served. Even if said man is missing a part or two._

She smiled shyly up at him, took his hand and shook it.

'Thank you. I am Katarina Wagner.'

* * *

The next week, Mac was walking down the corridor, towards the exit of the rehab centre, when a nurse with short curly blonde hair literally bumped into him. He reached out automatically to steady her, then recognized her. It took him a moment, with her dramatic change in hairstyle.

'Katarina?'

The nurse nodded, and then pointed down the corridor.

'I hoped that maybe he would not recognize me so easily…' Mac heard shouting from the reception area, and a couple of cries of protest from the receptionist, and then footsteps approaching them.

'Katarina, I am not letting you go! I will not allow it! Come back to me, or I will-'

The footsteps were getting closer.

'Katarina, you can't run from me!'

 _Okay, okay, this is really a rather sexist notion. I don't like it, but it's true. A man like this will usually respect a bigger, stronger man's claim. Now, I'm relatively wiry, at least compared to Jack or the average Marine, and I'm missing about a third of a leg, but I was in the Army and I can definitely take a guy who just works in an office, day in, day out. And he knows that._

 _Sorry, Mom, and Penny, and Grandfather._

Mac pushed Katarina against the wall, and kissed her.

He felt her surprise, and then, after a moment, he felt her relax.

He waited until he was sure Eric was gone, and then he broke the kiss and let her go.

'I'm sorry.'

She smiled shakily and shyly up at him.

'There is nothing to be sorry for…'

They stood there, somewhat awkwardly, for a moment.

Then, Mac's brain started running a mile a minute.

 _Now, that might just have done it, but if it doesn't, I can't let her go home defenceless…_

He looked up. A burly man on crutches with a well-maintained beard was making his way down the corridor. He stopped outside one of the doors and turned a key in the lock. Mac made his way towards him.

 _Now, guys these days spend a lot of time on their beards._

 _I don't get it and I prefer the clean-shaven look myself, but those beard trimmers pack some serious voltage…_

'Excuse me, but do you own a beard trimmer?'

Confused, the man nodded at him.

Mac smiled at him.

'Could I have it?' He glanced at his watch, mentally calculating how long it'd take him and Jack to get to the nearest Wal-Mart and back. 'I'll get you a new one, in about half an hour, I promise.' Mac indicated Katarina with a movement of his head. 'It's for a good cause, to help protect her from her ex.'

The other man nodded slowly, and walked into his room. He returned a moment later, beard trimmer in hand.

'I don't know what you're going to do with it, bud, but she's a real nice lady and her ex is real mean; he's been coming around and bothering her lots, so take it.'

He handed it to Mac.

'Thanks. I'll bring you a new one in a bit.'

Mac immediately got to work, walking back over to Katarina as he did so. After a couple of minutes, he smiled and pressed the two buttons on either side of the former-beard-trimmer at the same time. Electricity arced across the top. Satisfied, he turned it off and handed it to the young woman.

Katarina looked at the device with wide eyes, then looked up at him.

'You made me a Taser.'

Mac nodded, and acting on some impulse he couldn't quite explain, tucked two fingers under her chin and tilted her face up gently.

'Now you can defend yourself.'

* * *

Three days later, Mac stopped by the rehab centre again. (His prosthesis needed adjusting; the swelling had gone down a fair bit of late and it no fit longer properly.)

At the reception desk, the receptionist, Jonah, Cindy and two nurses he recognized but didn't know the names of, were talking to one another in shocked, excited whispers.

'…he showed up at her apartment, and she _tased_ him!'

'He's been arrested, and she's pressing charges…'

'…She's taking time off work, obviously, the poor dear…'

'…I wonder where she got the Taser from?'

The receptionist glanced at Mac. It seemed that at least one person knew what he'd done, but at least it seemed that the others were unaware. That was probably a good thing; he didn't want to get into trouble for making weapons, after all.

It sounded like Katarina was okay, and her ex was almost certainly going to get sent to prison. All in all, a good outcome.

He smiled to himself.

After his appointment, he came back out into the reception area, and walked up to the receptionist to book and check his next appointments.

After making the necessary arrangements, the woman handed him a prettily-wrapped box, with a card on top, with a smile.

Slightly confused, Mac took it, returning the woman's smile. He walked out into the carpark, and read the card.

 _Thank you very much, Angus MacGyver._

 _I do not really know what to say or how to thank you, and I do not know if I ever truly can, but I hope you like apple strudel._

 _Katarina_

Mac grinned, tucking the card back into the envelope.

 _An excellent outcome indeed._

 _Katarina's safe, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get into trouble for the Taser, her ex is facing justice, and apple strudel is delicious._

 _It was nice, to be able to help someone out. To be able to protect someone, even if it's not in the same way as I did before. I didn't realize quite how much I needed that reassurance until it happened._

 _I guess a lot of things in life are like that, aren't they?_

* * *

 _Dear Dad,_

 _I did something that I think Grandfather would be proud of these last couple of weeks._

 _You know how he was always talking about the importance of being a gentleman and helping out a lady? Well, I helped a damsel-in-distress to rescue herself, I guess. (She did the rescuing, I gave her a tool to do it with.) Of course I didn't help her to get anything at all, not even her gratitude. I just did it because it was the right thing to do, like Grandfather always said a gentleman should act…_

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac picked up a paperclip from the little bowl on his desk as he folded up his letter to his father and placed it into an envelope. He unwound the piece of wire, and started re-forming it into a new shape.

He placed the little wire bridge into the envelope with the letter and sealed it. He'd post it in the morning.

 _I really didn't help Katarina for any other reason than it being the right thing to do._

 _I didn't do it for her gratitude, I didn't do it for apple strudel. I didn't do it to feel like a 'hero' again, or to feel strong and able and maybe, just maybe, attractive to a woman again._

 _And I certainly didn't do it to help me move on from Nikki._

 _But that kind of all happened anyway._

 _I think I really am moving on._

 _Starting too, anyway._

* * *

Chapter song: Piano Man, Billy Joel. Specifically for the following lines: _Son, can you play me a melody? I'm not really sure how it goes. But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete, when I wore a younger man's clothes._

AN: Well, another familiar face has popped up! If you think Mac is moving on a little too quickly- remember that he's just starting to move on, and he's currently in a very good mood (good days and bad days, remember).

A companion piece of sorts to this story, from Bozer's point of view, called _The Roommate Chronicles_ will start posting in a couple of days. Given the tone of this fic, it's a very different companion piece, all silly fluff and humour, with very short chapters. The posting schedule for that one will be very irregular, because it tracks events throughout _Just Another Patriotic Guy_ and I need to keep them in sync, timeline-wise.

Here's the summary:

Making a hot tub out of a vacuum cleaner and a kiddie pool? Tricking out the grill so that it can cook pastrami in only half an hour? Life's never boring when you live with Mac, so of course Bozer, being an avid storyteller, shares these interesting, hilarious moments with his Tumblr followers.


	8. You Can Move a Mountain

**MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac's phone rang. He reached over to the coffee table and picked it up, glancing at the caller ID. It was Charlie, who had just started working for the FBI in New York at the start of the month, finally sufficiently recovered from his injuries. (He'd never be able to see combat again, but field work for the FBI was definitely possible.)

'Hi, Charlie-'

'SHE SAID YES! I'm getting married!' Charlie seemed to realize something. 'Oh, shit, sorry, Mac. I…I completely forgot…shit, sorry…I'm just so happy, I'm out of my mind…damn, I just made it worse…'

Mac took a deep breath. Of course he was a little sad and a little jealous. He was human, and while he was healing and moving on, it would take time. But of course, of course, he was happy for Charlie. His dear friend was getting married, his dear friend was oh, so happy, so happy that he'd completely forgotten Mac's situation, which he, like all of Mac's friends, have been quite sensitive to. Of course Mac was happy for him.

'Charlie, it's okay.' He paused for a moment. 'I'm happy for you, I really, really am!' He took another deep breath, focusing on Charlie's happiness and his own resultant happiness. It wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. Another good sign. Today was definitely a good day. 'When's the wedding?'

Mac could see his friend's beaming face as he replied.

'We're not absolutely sure yet, but we're planning on sometime in May.' Charlie was quiet for a moment. 'Mac, would you be one of my groomsmen?'

Mac smiled.

'Of course, Charlie, of course.'

'Thanks, man.' Mac could practically see the smirk growing on Charlie's face. 'You know, Marissa's going to ask her younger sister and her two best friends to be her bridesmaids. They're all single, pretty, smart young women and two of them are blonde; just your type! I'm sure you'll like at least one of them…'

Mac groaned, shaking his head with a smile.

'You're seriously basing your assessment of my type off _one_ ex-girlfriend, whom I dated for nearly nine years?'

It was definitely a good sign that he was making jokes about it now. Even if today was a very, very good day.

'Hey, I'm not wrong, am I?'

'I'm not dignifying that with a response.'

'Just told me all I needed to know, Mac. Anyway, I should probably go, I've got quite a lot of people to call. Tell Jack for me, will you? I'll text him, but you know how he is with tech.' Mac chuckled. Jack, being a fair few years older than Mac and Charlie, wasn't the greatest with smartphones, though he'd picked up how to order an Uber. Charlie was probably not giving Jack enough credit, but the whole team loved making old man jokes about him as much as they loved teasing Mac about his relative youth. 'Expect invitations in the mail within the next month!'

'See you, Charlie. Congratulations!'

'Thanks, Mac. See you!'

* * *

In the early evening, there was a knock on Mac's door. He got up to answer it, confused.

Jack had a key, and Bozer did, of course, and his roommate wasn't due home from work until quite late that night…

He opened the door.

On the other side, stood a serious, dark-haired woman, smartly dressed and about Jack's age.

She held out a hand for him to shake.

'Good evening, Mr MacGyver. I'm Patricia Thornton.'

 _What is Jack's boss doing at my door? Has something happened to him? He works at a think-tank; how dangerous can that be?_

She gave him a small smile.

'No, Mr MacGyver, nothing's happened to Jack. I'm here for you.'

Mac raised an eyebrow, and let the woman in.

 _Jack was definitely telling the truth about her._

 _She might run a think-tank now, but she was definitely a spy. Or maybe still is._

 _Though, think-tank's not the best cover for some sort of secret spy organization._

 _I'd definitely notice if Jack was actually a secret agent and not just working on military tactics._

'Please, call me Mac.' He led her over to the couch, grateful that he and Bozer had just finally finished properly unpacking. 'Would you like something to drink?'

She sat down and shook her head.

'No, thank you, Mac.' She reached into her bag and pulled out a file and handed it to him. 'I'm here to offer you a job at the Phoenix Foundation.'

Mac took the file and started reading through it.

A chance to work for one of the most prestigious national security and defence think-tanks in the USA.

A chance to use his brain for good, to protect and defend people. He absent-mindedly rubbed his right knee. Keep fighting the good fight, in a different manner than he used to, but keep fighting it nonetheless.

He kept reading, and raised an eyebrow.

And generous financial compensation to boot.

And apparently a good dental plan.

He should accept, immediately, and gratefully. Still, Thornton was Jack's boss, with whom he seemed to generally be on very good terms with, and Jack did work for the Phoenix Foundation.

He wouldn't put it beyond Jack to find him a job, the perfect job, particularly since Mac had been getting grumblier about not working and his medical team and Dr Lau and Jonah were thinking that he was almost ready to find a job and go back to work.

Mac didn't want that.

 _Okay, okay, I've heard the saying about gift horses and mouths a million times._

 _But if I'm going to get this job, I want to have earned it._

 _I'm probably going to have to prove myself, if I take the job, and I don't want to make it harder for myself._

 _I'm tired of having to prove myself._

 _Skipped two grades at school, started MIT at sixteen, enlisted at eighteen, wound up on a special taskforce at nineteen…look, I've spent a lot of time proving myself._

He looked up at Thornton, looked her square in the eye.

'Why me?'

She looked into his eyes for a moment.

'Not for Jack.' Mac shook his head with a slight smile, despite himself. She was _good._ Thornton quirked an eyebrow at him slightly, and continued. 'Because you won twelve science fairs. Because you graduated from MIT with honours in half the time of a normal student. Because you are half of the team that holds the record for most explosives disarmed in a three-month-period. Because you speak Russian and Mandarin and apparently learnt Italian in less than a week. Because you hold, among several such honours, a Silver Star and a Purple Heart.' She wove her fingers together in front of her face, looking at him over them. 'Because you come recommended by many of my trusted contacts. Army, CIA, FBI, MSF.' She gave a small smile at the surprised look on his face. 'You caught the eye of a lot of higher-ups, Mac, even if you didn't know it.' She paused for a moment. 'Because every last one of my contacts, every last person I've spoken to about this offer, told me that you're a good man, one of the best they knew. Brilliant, brave, big-hearted, with a strong sense of duty, morality and responsibility.' Mac's ears reddened slightly and Thornton's smile widened somewhat. 'I won't lie to you, the fact that Jack trusts you and speaks so highly of you didn't hurt, because I trust him. But without him, I'd still be here, giving you this offer.'

Mac nodded in understanding, glancing back down at the file, then back up at Thornton.

'And why now?'

After all, if Thornton had offered Jack a job not even a month after Afghanistan, it couldn't take that long to speak to her contacts and do all the necessary vetting.

'I had to wait until you were ready. Wouldn't do to have one of our employees not functioning properly.' She smiled wryly. 'Besides, Jack would never have forgiven me if I approached you before you were cleared by medical, and that man would have made my life a living hell.'

Mac gave a laugh at that. Jack would have, boss or not, though he was beginning to suspect that they'd known each other for longer than a couple of months.

He looked back down at the file, then up at Thornton, locking eyes with her.

'I'm honoured, and I happily accept.'

She reached out and shook his hand firmly.

'Welcome to the Phoenix Foundation, Mac. Come to work with Jack tomorrow and we'll sort out all the formalities.'

'Thank you, ma'am.'

She stood to leave.

'Thornton or boss will do nicely, Mac.'

'Of course, boss.'

 _Today is a very, very good day._

* * *

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Jack led Mac into the breakroom, and towards a table next to one of the windows. A young woman with somewhat wild, long, dark hair sat there, focused on a laptop in front of her.

'You've got to stop bringing your work to lunch, kid.'

The young woman scoffed in response to Jack's comment, but she did close her laptop as Mac and Jack sat down opposite her.

'Brother, this is Riley Davis, Riley, this is Mac.'

The two young people smiled at each other and shook hands warmly, both recognizing one another from Jack's stories.

Riley, Mac knew, worked in counter-cyberterrorism, and she was a whiz with computers, a brilliant white hat hacker. Thornton herself was very fond of Riley, who was the Phoenix's Director's protégé of sorts.

Unfortunately, Riley was also the daughter of Jack's ex-girlfriend Diane, and she had been a little pissed off at the older man because of that.

Mac vividly remembered Jack's near-panic. Over twenty years spent almost entirely in warzones and other hostile territories, and the wrath of a woman panicked him more. (Though, Mac didn't blame him; Sarah was apparently very badass, Diane Davis was apparently exceedingly strong-willed and fierce, Thornton was pretty terrifying and Riley seemed to be more than able to hold her own.) Safe to say, there'd been a fair bit of grovelling on Jack's part, according to him, but it all was water under the bridge now.

Mac started eating his lunch and after swallowing a few bites, grinned up at Riley.

'So, do I need to worry about you wiping the old man from existence with just a few keystrokes?'

Riley laughed.

'Nah, we're all good now.'

Mac quirked an eyebrow at her, grin matching hers.

'I'm not so sure about that…if Thornton's been teaching you her spy skills, she seems like someone who'd be able to wait a long, long time for vengeance…'

Riley considered for a moment, then smiled and reached out and held her fist out to Mac.

'I like you.'

He bumped his fist to hers.

'I like you too.'

Jack grinned and threw an arm around Mac, grinning at Riley.

'And now we're one big happy family!'

Riley snorted.

'As long as you don't try and get back together with my mom to make this a so-called _proper_ family, I'm good with that.'

Jack shook his head.

'Like she'd have me anyway.'

Riley jabbed the air in front of him with her fork.

'She wouldn't make it easy for you, but you could charm her back into love with you, you know that, particularly since you stay put now.'

It was true, Jack and Diane's relationship had mostly fallen apart due to the distance between them due to Jack's work, though Riley's abusive drunk of a father hadn't helped either.

The older man shot a glance at the younger, concerned at how Mac would react. After all, there were parallels between his relationship with Diane and Mac and Nikki...

But while there was a little sadness in Mac's eyes, he looked generally okay to Jack. Mac bumped his knee to Jack's under the table, and smiled at him.

 _I'm okay, Jack. I'm okay._

 _Wound's starting to close over._

Jack smiled back at him.

Riley watched their interaction, a small smile on her face. After a moment, she gestured behind them with her head.

Mac and Jack turned around, to find Thornton standing almost directly behind them. They both jumped slightly.

'Jesus, Patty, would it kill you to make some noise?'

Thornton ignored Jack's complaint.

'Jack, my office, it won't take long.'

And she swept out of the room. Jack wolfed down the last of his sandwich and followed.

Riley watched them go with a rather devious grin on her face.

'I have spent the last six weeks wondering what they do in those meetings…'

Mac turned to watch his friend's and his boss's departing backs.

'Probably some sort of consulting with the CIA or the like. What Jack does could really have real-time applications.'

Riley narrowed her eyes at him.

'Stop ruining it.'

Mac thought for a moment. It _was_ weird that Jack called their boss Patty, even though he was pretty sure it was just Jack being Jack. But then again, maybe it wasn't…he _had_ bought a box of very expensive chocolates that were apparently Thornton's favourite while he was grovelling last month, hoping that pleasing her mentor would help him out with Riley. He had a growing suspicion that they'd met before Jack had started working for the Phoenix. He smirked slowly.

'Or, maybe that's just what they _want_ us to think…'

Riley grinned and nodded.

'I knew I liked you for a reason.'

 _Do I actually think that Jack's having some sort of relationship with our boss?_

 _No, not really._

 _But stranger things have happened._

* * *

That evening, Jack, who refused to reveal anything about his meeting with Thornton (apparently it was on a need-to-know basis) and Riley headed over to Mac and Bozer's.

Bozer wasn't home yet, though Mac was sure he'd be home any minute, so Mac busied himself with getting drinks for his friends.

Sure enough, as he was handing Riley a beer and making his way over to the couch, the front door opened and his roommate entered.

Bozer waved and grinned at Jack in greeting, and then did a double-take as he noticed Riley.

'Well, _hello_ , future girlfriend.'

Riley looked him up and down, an eyebrow raised. Mac thought that she looked as if she didn't know whether to be offended or burst into laughter.

Jack got up and walked over to Mac's best friend.

'Riley, this is Bozer. Bozer, this is off-limits.'

* * *

Chapter song: Hall of Fame, The Script.

AN: The first chapter of _The Roommate Chronicles_ is also now up. Hopefully you guys enjoy it!

Also, I've got some spare time at the moment, and I'd like to challenge myself and try my hand at writing prompts/requests- does anyone have any for me? (AU/canon-divergent ones, or ones that you're okay with ending up AU or canon-divergent might be better, since my history seems to show that I'm incapable of writing strictly canon…)


	9. A Heart of Steel

**MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

He was in a hospital ward, full of beds.

Mac looked around, recognizing all the figures that occupied the beds, laying there, still and unmoving and surrounded by life support equipment.

Jack, Bozer, Riley, Penny, Charlie, Thornton, Pena's wife and daughter, his dad…

The room was huge, and the number of beds seemingly endless.

Davies, Katarina, Cindy the physiotherapist, Jonah, Dr Lau, Johnstone, Daniels, the rest of the commandoes, Mr Ericson, his 8th grade science teacher, Pete the Marine…

And in the middle of the room, the largest bomb he'd ever seen in his life.

 **0:21**

 **0:20**

 **0:19**

A voice behind him, speaking words he'd heard before in that same voice.

'They can't leave the hospital.'

He turned to face Beth.

'But I have to save them! I have to!'

'Chris always says, you can't save everyone…'

'No...'

'BOOM!'

'Mac!'

* * *

Mac shot upright.

An unfamiliar man in military garb stood over him.

Instantly, he grabbed the man and tackled him to the floor. The man struggled underneath him.

'Mac! Mac! It's me!'

 _Strange, that voice is very familiar…oh, no._

Mac sat up and pulled the mask off his best friend's face.

'I'm so sorry, Bozer…'

His roommate let out a long breath, trying to calm his nerves, then smiled up at Mac.

'It's okay, bro. No harm, no foul. I should know better than to wake you up while in disguise as General Wang anyway.' Bozer glanced over at the couch, where Mac had been sleeping. 'Slept on the couch again?'

Mac nodded, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

'Yeah. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, so I came out here to watch some Netflix…guess I must have fallen asleep.' Mac had rigged their TV to turn off if there was no activity for a set period of time.

The front door opened.

Riley stepped inside, took one look at the two young men on the floor, Mac more or less straddling a prone Bozer, and raised an eyebrow.

'You said I didn't have to knock…should I knock next time?'

Mac and Bozer shared a look, finally realizing how odd this probably looked, and moved quickly. Mac got up, wincing as he did so (sleeping in his prosthesis was a bad idea) and helped his best friend up off the floor. Bozer frantically tried to explain how the whole thing had happened to Riley as he stood.

'So, I put on my General Wang costume, because I wanted to surprise Mac, since he's going to be playing General Wang in my next film…'

Riley looked quite pointedly at Mac, since he obviously bore no resemblance whatsoever to a middle-aged Chinese man. Bozer indicated the full-head prosthesis he held in his left hand.

'He's the only guy I know who speaks Mandarin, and that's what this is for. So I walked into the living room, intending to wait here until he got up so I can surprise him, and saw him asleep on the couch. Now, that thing's got terrible lumbar support and I could see he'd fallen asleep wearing his peg-leg, which you know you shouldn't do, bro-'

'-it was an accident, I put it on to walk out here, and I fell asleep completely unintentionally, Bozer.' Mac looked over at Riley, biting his lip. 'I was having a nightmare, and he woke me up, and I didn't recognize him…'

Riley nodded, seemingly understanding.

'…so you defended yourself.'

Somewhat surprised, Mac nodded. Bozer, too, looked at Riley with his head cocked to the side.

 _There's something she's not telling us. Something about her, something in her past, that Bozer and I don't know. I suspected, but now I know for sure._

 _I think Jack knows._

 _And Thornton has to._

 _And they trust her, so of course I trust her._

 _It's none of my business, anyway._

She shifted her weight with discomfort at their scrutiny.

'You good to go for work, Mac?'

Riley was giving him a lift today (she and Jack took turns), since driving was still beyond him.

He nodded.

'Yeah, give me thirty minutes or so, so I can have a quick shower, brush my teeth and get dressed?' The blonde glanced at the clock. There was an hour until he and Riley had to leave for the Phoenix anyway. 'You're early…'

Bozer smirked at Riley.

'I promised my bae some of my world-class waffles!'

Riley cocked an eyebrow at him.

'I'm _not_ your bae, and I'm only here because I want you to prove it and I have to pick up Mac anyway.' She shrugged and gave a small smile. 'Besides, I'm a terrible cook, and waffles sounds a hell of a lot better than cereal for breakfast.'

Bozer winked at her.

'Got it, baby, way to your heart is through your stomach!'

Riley rolled her eyes, but followed him into the kitchen anyway.

Mac watched them go, somewhat bemused.

 _My morning definitely just got weirder…_

 _Better, but weirder…_

 _I mean, Bozer's an awesome guy, the best, but I really didn't peg him for Riley's type…_

* * *

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac smiled at Riley as she pulled up in the parking lot.

'Thanks for the lift.'

She smiled back at him.

'I was heading this way anyway.' She hesitated for a moment, then continued. 'How are you finding the Phoenix?'

Mac looked out at the building for a moment, then turned to Riley, smile widening.

'I like it a lot. It's nice to be able to do good and help people.' He paused for a moment. 'And it's great that it seems more or less everyone accepts that I'm capable. Nice to not have to prove myself.'

 _That was definitely a wonderful surprise._

 _Maybe getting older really does make it better. After all, twenty-five isn't unbelievably young to have finished college and served._

Riley looked out the window, staring off into the distance.

'Thornton herself recruited you, and everyone trusts her judgement. If she vouches for you, most people will accept you, no questions asked. Besides, you're nowhere near being her most questionable or strange recruit.'

There was a note of something in her voice, something that sounded like she was speaking from experience.

Mac almost wanted to push further, but he'd quickly realized that Riley was rather closed-off and he suspected she might clam up again if he did. This was already the most open he'd seen her.

The young woman pulled her keys out of the ignition, undid her seatbelt and got up, signalling an end to their conversation.

Mac followed her into the building, lost in thought.

* * *

 **MOVIE THEATRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac, Jack, Riley and Bozer walked out of the screening of _The Martian_ , which, after much debate, they'd finally agreed on as the movie to see on their night out.

'...Gravitational assist is pretty SOP for space travel, NASA would definitely have considered the Rich Purnell manoeuvre before Rich Purnell came up with it…'

'…And that density of potato crops he ended up planting? That was completely inefficient, well below optimal density.'

'You _know_ about proper potato-farming practices, Mac?'

'I watched a series of YouTube videos on agricultural practices a while ago; the Green Revolution is fascinating. Anyway, the premise itself is flawed, with the Martian atmosphere, you'd never get that level of gale-force winds on Mars…'

Bozer turned to his best friend and Riley, who were picking apart all the apparent scientific inaccuracies of the film, arms spread wide.

'Suspension of disbelief, bro, sweetpea, suspension of disbelief! The cornerstone, the rock, the foundation of all cinema!'

Jack just shook his head.

'Nerds. I'm surrounded by nerds.'

Suddenly, Bozer stopped in his tracks.

'I've just had the _best_ idea for our Halloween costume.'

Riley raised an eyebrow at him.

' _Our_ Halloween costume?'

Bozer nodded.

'Of course! We're going to Penny's party and we're going to have an _epic_ group costume!' Bozer pointed at Mac. 'Watney, of course.' He then indicated Jack. 'And Martinez.' He pointed at Riley, and then himself. 'Johanssen, and Beck.'

Riley scoffed at him.

' _Really_?'

Bozer was, of course, undeterred.

'You reckon you could convince your boss lady to come? She'd make a great Lewis…'

* * *

 _Hi Beth,_

 _Jack, Bozer, Riley and I just went to watch The Martian. You have to watch it, when you get the chance! No spoilers, I promise, but it's amazing, even though there are a couple of issues with the science and the realism (not really any more than the book). I was a little worried, when I heard they were making a film- you know how book adaptations can go horribly wrong sometimes- but it's seriously a great, great adaptation. Stays true to the novel. (You have read it, right?)_

 _Also, I figured you might want to hear about this. (It's a pretty cool piece of engineering, even if I say so myself.) I built a hot tub on the rooftop deck of mine and Bozer's place, out of a kiddie pool and a vacuum cleaner; a photo of it is attached. My next project: tricking out the grill so that Bozer can make his amazing pastrami in less time. It normally takes most of a day, but I'm aiming to get it down to under an hour…_

* * *

 _Hi Mac,_

 _I will, it's on my list of things to do when I get the chance (which might not be for months) but I will watch it, promise! I'm really glad to hear that it's a good adaptation, I adore the book (even if he needed like another 20 square metres to grow enough potatoes and the entire premise is flawed, given the Martian atmosphere), and I would not have forgiven them for screwing it up! (You do not want to see my wrath. My wrath is terrifying, I swear!)_

 _Your jury-rigged hot tub sounds really cool (seems like you did a really good job with it, unsurprisingly!) on one hand (and it sounds like a really good way for you to impress the ladies! Maybe it'll help Bozer out with Riley and help you get a date!), but my doctor-y senses are tingling…did you electrocute yourself making it? (If you lie, I'll know, I swear, and you will feel my wrath!)…_

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Jack, Mac, Bozer and Riley dug into Bozer's delicious burgers on the roof of Mac and Bozer's building, enjoying the unusually-warm fall evening.

Riley took a bite of her burger and chewed slowly, swallowed and then spoke.

'I spent two years in supermax.'

Three heads all turned to look at her instantly. Bozer and Mac were in shock, Bozer more than the blonde. Jack simply looked mildly surprised for a moment, before he gave a small smile and reached out to squeeze her shoulder in support.

'You…you were in _prison_?'

Bozer sounded shocked, but not completely repulsed. Riley ignored the little feeling of relief that that brought her.

She nodded.

'Yeah, not my proudest moment.' She drank some of her beer, looking out over the city. 'A little over three years ago, just after…' She sighed. 'Just after Jack and my mom broke up, I got contacted by this group. The Collective. They're a group of hackers with a reputation for state-sponsored hacking.' Riley looked down at her plate. 'I did a few jobs for them. Definitely some pretty dodgy stuff, but I could get to sleep at night.' She played with a lettuce leaf that had fallen out of her burger. 'I helped my mom out, paid the bills, bought her some nice things. Money was tight when I was growing up, and it wasn't as if we were doing all that much better then.' Riley looked up at them, worrying her lip. 'But then they told me to hack the NSA. I said no. They said they'd kill my mom.' Jack squeezed her shoulder again, face full of regret. 'So I did it, badly. Made sure I got myself caught and set my mom up with a new identity and a life in Vancouver.'

'You knew you couldn't hack anything from supermax, and that they knew that too.'

Riley simply nodded at Mac.

'You went to _prison_ for your mom?'

Bozer was staring at Riley as if she were the Holy Grail come to life.

Riley nodded again.

'I love my mom. More than anyone else. For the longest time, it was just me and her. She raised me and loved me and she protected me from my dad as best as she could. If I had to, I'd do it all again, for her.'

Mac nodded, the pieces finally falling into place.

'That's why you were so mad at Jack.'

Riley nodded, leaning back a bit in her chair.

'Yeah. Figured if the CIA man was still around, I wouldn't have had to get myself caught. Wouldn't have had to protect my mom all on my own. Or maybe they wouldn't even have tried to approach me.'

Jack reached out and put an arm around the young woman.

'For what it's worth, if you'd come to me, I'd have moved the Earth to help you out, even if your mom and I weren't together anymore.'

Riley smiled up at him, putting her arm around Jack's shoulders and giving him a side-hug. They'd had this conversation before.

'I know, Jack, I know. You've told me as much.' She sighed. 'And I learned to let it go, eventually. You did what you could for us. Threw my dad around to keep him from hurting my mom…tried to keep me out of black hat work.' She gave a snort, lost in a memory. 'You know, you _suck_ at talking impressionable, rebelling young twenty-somethings out of doing things.' Riley blinked a few times, then looked back up at Bozer and Mac. 'Anyway, just over a year ago, Thornton and the Phoenix were doing some work on The Collective and the NSA hack, and she stumbled upon my case. Worked out the truth, got me out of prison, and into white hat work for the Phoenix.' Riley smiled, lost in a memory again. 'Took down The Collective, and now my mom's safe and living a good life in Vancouver.'

All three men smiled too. Mac reached out and clasped Riley's shoulder briefly, while Bozer laid a hand on her forearm.

A moment later, Mac's brow furrowed.

'Wait a moment…Thornton runs a think-tank. She took down a hacker organization?'

Riley smirked at him.

'With some help from me. And she wasn't _always_ Director of a think-tank, and a _lot_ of people owe her favours.' She paused for a moment, and then picked up her burger again. 'Can't tell you any more. Top-secret, you know.'

 _Well, guess I was right. She used to be a spy._

They all nodded, laughing, and got back to eating.

Mac elbowed Jack's side.

'Seems like you had to do a lot more than grovel, old man.'

* * *

Later, Jack and Mac tidied up the deck area. (Bozer and Riley were cleaning up in the kitchen.)

As he finished cleaning the grill, Mac winced slightly and rubbed his right knee.

Jack noticed, of course, and wordlessly pulled out a chair.

'Stump soreness?'

The younger man nodded.

'Yeah.'

'Better sit down for a bit, brother.'

Jack indicated the chair. Mac sat down, and smiled up at him.

'Thanks, Jack.'

Jack smiled back at him, and kept tidying up the plates.

Mac was getting better at accepting what had happened to him. Getting a prosthesis, even a temporary one, and getting off the crutches and the cane helped, as had the fact that his left leg was almost completely recovered, thanks to intensive physiotherapy and no small amount of luck. So did the incident with that German nurse, in Jack's mind. The younger man now spoke about his leg quite casually, like how one would speak about having a dodgy knee or tennis elbow, at least on his good days.

As much as Jack wished he'd never had to go through this, it at least warmed his heart that Mac was coping. Or really, doing much better than coping. Jack shook his head fondly. Kid was a walking miracle. Always was, always would be.

* * *

In the kitchen, Bozer handed Riley a cup of hot chocolate.

'It's my special recipe. Real dark chocolate, milk, a bit of cream, a dash of cinnamon…'

Riley took it, carefully taking a sip. It smelled and tasted absolutely divine.

'Thanks, Bozer.'

He smiled at her, a softer smile than usual.

'I'm really sorry that all happened to you, Riley.' He shook his head. 'I…I just can't believe you went and did all of that for your mom…I mean, I knew you were amazing, but that's just…' He looked into her eyes. 'That's just absolutely freaking amazingly incredible.' He looked down at the mug of hot chocolate in her hands for a moment. 'Oh, I forgot the marshmallows!' He rushed over to the pantry and started searching for them. 'You can't have hot chocolate without marshmallows! That's just wrong!'

Riley smiled, and glanced down at Bozer's phone, which was sitting on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, and opened the contacts list, adding her phone number to it.

Bozer returned with the marshmallows and she handed him back his phone. He looked down at the screen and grinned.

'Oh, I'm going to send you so many cat memes…'

Riley raised an eyebrow at him.

'Don't make me regret it.'

Bozer instantly started texting, and a moment later, Riley's phone vibrated in her pocket.

She just laughed and pulled it out, taking another sip of hot chocolate as she did so.

From the door, Mac and Jack just exchanged a glance and a smile.

 _My grandfather always said that even though people are always looking for love, it tends to find you instead._

 _Sometimes it runs into you head-on._

 _Sometimes it comes out of nowhere and clobbers you on the head._

 _Sometimes it runs right past you and you have to chase it._

 _Sometimes it was really there all along, you just never saw it._

 _Sometimes it sneaks up on you and hugs you from behind._

 _Regardless of how it finds you, you never really know when or how or who._

 _It just happens._

 _And that's the beauty of it._

* * *

Chapter song: Superheroes, The Script.

AN: For the story behind the hot tub or the grill, check out _The Roommate Chronicles._ ( _The Cleanliness Dilemma_ is now posted and _The Brisket Glitch_ goes up tomorrow.)


	10. Bloom and Grow

AN: This chapter is where it becomes quite clear (for those reading on AO3) why Copious References to Food is a relevant tag.

* * *

 **NOVEMBER 2015**

 **REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac stepped out of Dr Lau's office, to find a familiar young woman with blonde curls waiting for him.

'Oh, hi, Katarina.' He hadn't seen her for about a month, not since he'd made her that Taser. 'Is…is everything alright?'

Surely Eric was in jail, even if it was only on remand. Surely he wouldn't have gotten bail…

She nodded.

'Oh, yes, everything is fine.' She smiled up at him. 'Eric is in jail and he will be for a very long time. He cannot hurt me anymore.' Her smile widened. 'Thank you, Mac. Thank you very much, for protecting me.'

He smiled back at her.

'From what I heard, you protected yourself. I just gave you a tool to do it with.'

She shook her head.

'You gave me much more than that, Mac.'

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

Eventually, Katarina broke it. She indicated the visitor's badge pinned to her shirt that Mac had previously not noticed.

'Anyway, I do not work here anymore. I just came to say goodbye to my friends, and to you.' She gave him a sad, almost regretful, little smile. 'I am moving back to Germany, to make a new start.' She hugged him, and after a moment of surprise, he hugged her back. 'If you ever come to Germany, look me up.'

Mac's ears reddened as they let go of each other. He shifted his weight onto his left leg.

'Well, I'm really bad at making plans…but let's plan to make plans?'

Her smile broadened, and she stepped away from him and waved.

'Goodbye, Angus MacGyver.'

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac walked into the apartment, surprised to find that Bozer was home. He was supposed to have a shift until the evening…

'Bozer? Don't you have work?'

His roommate, who was preparing what looked (and smelled) like Beef Wellington, nodded.

'Yeah, but I quit. My boss wanted to promote me to Assistant Manager, so I quit.'

Mac raised an eyebrow.

'I think I'm going to need you to walk me through this one.'

Bozer set down the pot that he was holding and pulled off the oven mitts.

'Well, first it's Assistant Manager, next it's Manager, and then District Manager, and then VP.'

'…Right.'

Bozer nodded.

'Well, and if I'm going to make movies, then making movies has to be my focus, you know?' He paused for a moment. 'But don't worry, brother's still good for the rent.'

Mac shook his head, smiling, and reached out and clasped his best friend's shoulder.

'Bozer, I'm not worried about the rent! I'm proud of you, chasing your dream!'

His roommate grinned back at him.

'Thanks, bro.' He turned back to his cooking. 'Anyway, I thought I'd make something fancy to celebrate…'

* * *

 _Hi Mac,_

 _I had no idea that one could make a Taser out of a beard trimmer, though I guess I shouldn't be surprised you can…_

… _It sounds like someone's got an admirer! Too bad she's moving back to Germany…_

… _and of course apple strudel is delicious, but pumpkin pie is a way better fruit-based dessert. I've got a really great pumpkin pie recipe, I'll see if I can find the website I got it off if I have a moment (it might be a while, as you can see from the slowness of my reply- sorry!- we're pretty run off our feet here) and send you the link. Then you can make it for Thanksgiving or really any time! Damn societal convention, pumpkin pie is delicious and should be an acceptable foodstuff all year round…_

* * *

Mac smiled as he finished reading Beth's email.

Apple strudel was delicious. So was pumpkin pie.

 _And then, it hit me._

Quite suddenly, a memory from when he was very, very young, perhaps four years old, hit him. He could practically smell the pie, practically smell his mother's perfume, and see her smile and feel her arms around him…

Blinking at the sudden wetness in his eyes, Mac reached for a piece of paper and a pen.

* * *

 _Dear Dad,_

 _This is going to sound strange, but do you remember that apple pie that Mom used to make? Every year, about this time, during the apple harvest, if I remember correctly? This is probably a long shot, but I've quite suddenly got a craving. Have you got the recipe? I swear there was some sort of secret ingredient; Bozer's an amazing cook and makes a great apple pie, but it's just not the same as hers._

 _I know it's been about twenty years, and I know that I was only five when she passed, but still, I really miss her…_

* * *

Later, Mac slipped a little paperclip apple into the envelope with his dad's address on the front, and sealed it. He'd post it first thing in the morning.

 _My grandfather had very strong opinions on what made the perfect apple pie._

 _Short and crumbly, but not too short and crumbly, pastry._

 _Always served warm with cold vanilla ice cream._

 _But the filling was always the most important._

 _It had to be both sweet and tart, just the right balance between the two._

 _Not too sweet, so as to overwhelm and destroy the natural flavour of apples or, as he said, give you diabetes just by taking a bite._

 _Not too tart, so as to make you spit it out and make a face._

 _Just like a good life, he said._

 _My grandfather was pretty much always right._

* * *

Chapter song: Edelweiss, The Sound of Music.

AN: Creative liberties taken here with how long court cases go for and the likelihood of getting bail. Also, this is a short chapter, but I needed to tie up that loose end with Katarina, and there were a couple of other things I wanted to include. The next chapter is very long (and probably my favourite in the whole fic) to make up for this! Hint: it's the Christmas chapter, and also this AU's adaptation of 1.11, Scissors.


	11. All The Way Home, I'll Be Warm

**DECEMBER 2015**

* * *

 _In Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, Scrooge is visited by three spirits, if, of course, you don't count Jacob Marley._

 _The Ghost of Christmas Past…_

* * *

 _Dear Dad,_

 _Merry Christmas! I hope you're having a good holiday season._

 _I was just reminiscing; remember when I was six, our first Christmas without Mom? You bought me that Chemistry set, and I bought you a new toaster with my pocket money because I'd taken ours apart…_

* * *

Mac turned on his laptop, opened the browser, and navigated to the MSF homepage. He clicked the 'Donate Now' button.

Beth, Chris and all the other doctors didn't see it as a debt to be paid. And even if there was a debt to be paid, it was really them paying him back, they'd said.

Mac wasn't really sure if he saw it as a debt, at least not anymore.

But still, he'd always greatly respected MSF and the work they did, and now something more tied him to them.

Money was just money, and he had more than enough.

Might as well use it to do some good.

With a smile, he moved on to the next organization on his list.

 _The Fisher House Foundation, then the USO…_

* * *

 **SHELTER FOR SURVIVORS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac pulled up at the shelter in his car. He got out and grabbed the assortment of bags from the boot and walked inside.

An older female volunteer, Mary, whom he'd met several months ago when he'd called to enquire about donating all of his and Nikki's stuff, greeted him with a smile and bustled over to help him with the bags. She took two from his hands and peeked inside one.

'Oh, the children will love these…'

With a smile, he followed her into a room bustling with activity, wrapping paper and ribbons everywhere.

* * *

Mac hadn't been wrapping presents for very long at all when Jack and Thornton entered the room, both carrying cups of coffee. (It was still rather early in the morning, after all.)

'Morning, brother.'

'Good morning, Mac.'

'Morning, Jack, morning, boss.'

Thornton smiled at him, a broader smile than usual.

'I'm not your boss today, Mac. Patricia will do, outside of work.'

And she put down her coffee cup, picked up a stuffed toy elephant, and started expertly wrapping it.

Mac watched with no small element of surprise. Jack leaned over him to grab the sticky tape, jogging Mac with his elbow as he did so.

'Patty's good at everything, brother; this sort of stuff shouldn't surprise you anymore.'

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

'...You make _pastrami_ for Christmas?'

Riley looked at the side of beef brisket that Bozer was currently preparing.

'Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it! It's totally traditional! Me and Mac, we've been having pastrami for Christmas since our Senior year back in Mission City! Well, the first time, it was because I'd forgotten to order a turkey and it was all the butcher had left, but…' Bozer picked up a jar full of spices, some sort of secret mix he refused to share with anyone, even her, and sprinkled them on the beef. 'Anyway, the secret to a great pastrami is all in the rub…' Bozer trailed off, noticing Riley's distinct lack of Christmas cheer. 'Oh, don't tell me you're a Grinch! Turn that frown upside down!'

Riley sighed and continued chopping the cabbage.

'With my dad…and how tight money was….well, Christmas was never really that magical time of year for me. My mom tried, but…' She shrugged. 'Best Christmas I've had to date was probably four years ago. Only Christmas Jack was home with me and my mom for.' She smiled fondly, lost in the memory. 'I was too old to need a father by the time he and my mom got together. Didn't stop him from trying.' She shook her head. 'He tried so hard to get me to trust him and open up to him…' She stopped chopping the cabbage. 'He's the closest thing I've ever had to a father, I guess.' After a moment's silence, Riley shrugged again and resumed chopping. 'Anyway, for me and my mom, December 25th's just another day.'

Bozer strode over, put both hands on Riley's upper arms and looked into her eyes.

'Riley, baby, I'm going to put the magic back into Christmas for you. I'm going to give you a Christmas miracle!'

Riley smiled gently at him, but she shook her head.

'Thank you, Bozer, but…'

He put a finger on her lips.

'No buts. I'm no Mac, but I'm going to do it, just you wait and see!'

His brain was ticking into overdrive, coming up with a crazy, last-minute plan truly worthy of his best friend.

It was nine in the morning on Christmas Eve. There was still time.

He grabbed the pastrami, telling Riley that he was going to get it going. She didn't know that while it normally took just about all day, since Mac had done his thing to their grill, it would only take half an hour (provided that it didn't catch fire, which it hadn't the last time they'd used it…).

Once he got to the roof, Bozer put down the beef and pulled out his phone.

His buddy Patrick from MassArt really loved Bozer's eight-layer chocolate cake, and he worked at a travel agency.

'Hey, Pat, my man, it's Bozer. Listen, could you do me a favour? I…Yeah, of course, I'll make you my special chocolate cake… I need a ticket from Vancouver to D.C. For today, getting here by seven tonight, D.C time…Don't worry about the cost, I'll pay whatever, just get it for me…'

* * *

 **SHELTER FOR SURVIVORS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Jack's phone rang. With a look of confusion (he wasn't expecting anyone to call him), he put down the toy car he was in the middle of wrapping, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

'Hey, Bozer...of course I'll help…' He let out a low whistle. 'You really like her, don't you? She was _supposed_ to be off-limits.' Jack shook his head. 'I don't know what got that into her head, but there is _nothing_ going on between me and Patty…yeah, of course I'll be able to get her to help…she's not the cuddliest person, but she loves Riley as much as you or me, just doesn't show it as easy…I'll tell you when we're go. See you later, man.'

Jack hung up and turned to Mac and Thornton, who, to their credit, had maintained mostly straight faces (Thornton far more than Mac) throughout the conversation. Now, they both looked rather curious. Jack held up his phone.

'So, Bozer wants to give Riley a Christmas miracle. He's somehow managed to buy Diane a plane ticket from Vancouver to D.C to get her here for Christmas dinner tonight.' He turned to Thornton. 'Flight leaves at ten, Vancouver time. He needs you to call Diane and get her to accept that ticket and get on the plane.'

(After all, a woman who'd once been threatened by a dangerous hacker organization was not going to accept a plane ticket from a guy who insisted he was her daughter's friend, even if Riley had told her mom all about Bozer. But if her daughter's trusted mentor, a former spy, who'd helped take down said hacker organization and got her daughter out of prison, told her it was safe…)

Thornton smiled and nodded, pulling out her phone.

'Of course. Give me five minutes.'

* * *

Mac pulled the red-and-green-striped hat, with elf ears attached, off his head, smoothing down the resultant hat hair. Anything for a good cause, but he was glad to be out of those tights. They'd been a pain to get on and off over his prosthesis and weren't exactly his favourite item of clothing.

 _I really do not understand the whole skinny jeans trend…_

He glanced over at Jack and Thornton. The dark-haired woman was helping Jack out of the fat suit he'd been wearing under his Santa costume, having already changed out of her Mrs Claus outfit. Jack was rather distracted, staring off into the distance.

'Looking at those kids…I kept seeing a younger her.' He shook his head. 'Could've been her, fifteen, twenty years ago.'

Thornton reached out and squeezed Jack's shoulder, her own eyes far away. Mac nodded solemnly, walking over to join the two and laying his own hand on the older man's shoulder.

Riley hadn't had many happy Christmases growing up, if any at all. But hopefully these kids would. At the very least, this Christmas, they had a safe place to stay, a good meal in their bellies, presents and a visit from Santa, Mrs Claus and an elf.

Hopefully enough to keep them believing in the magic of Christmas.

 _Of course we didn't do it just because of her._

 _It was a worthy cause, but there are many worthy causes out there._

 _This one hit a little closer to home than most._

 _I don't think there's many people whom Jack would get into a Santa suit for, and even fewer that Patricia would wear a Mrs Claus outfit for._

 _But Riley means a lot to us, so this cause means a lot to us too._

* * *

… _the Ghost of Christmas Present…_

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac and Jack stood up on the rooftop deck, bundled up against the cold. They were babysitting the pastrami (which was necessary as while Mac's modified grill could cook it perfectly in half an hour, it was also necessary to be on hand to douse any excess flames). Downstairs, Thornton was distracting Riley, while Bozer made a couple of last-minute calls (Diane Davis' plane landed very soon) and put his finishing touches on their dinner.

The two veterans watched the snowfall, and looked down on the street where people bustled about, doing last-minute shopping or making their way home to their loved ones.

'Sure beats Christmas in Afghanistan, right, brother?'

Mac nodded.

'Oh, yeah. No dust everywhere, better food…'

Jack smiled and clapped the younger man on the back.

'Christmas food was always better than the usual stuff.'

Mac nodded, then smiled wryly.

'Bozer's cooking beats anything from the Mess, any day. And you're forgetting 2010.'

Jack shuddered.

'It should be against the Geneva Convention to have to eat MREs on Christmas Eve.'

Mac made his own expression of disgust, then smiled and put an arm around the older man.

'Still, at least the company was good. Even if I had to listen to both you _and_ Davies singing every Christmas.'

'My singing is wonderful, thank you very much.'

Mac punched him lightly in the arm.

'You need your ears checked, old man.'

They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the snow and the cityscape.

'You really okay, brother? Holidays can be tough, with everyone out there all happy with their loved ones, _Love Actually_ on TV every night…you always tried to do something real special for her every Christmas…'

Mac nodded, and tightened his grip around Jack's shoulders for a moment.

'I'm fine, Jack, really.' He smiled at the older man. 'You're forgetting, I'm spending Christmas with my loved ones too.'

 _Does it hurt a little more, at this time of year?_

 _Yes, it does, just like every year, I miss my mom and my grandfather and even my dad a little more around Christmas time._

 _But at the same time, I've still got plenty of love in my life, and the loved ones I have with me now, we all pull a little closer together this time of year._

 _And that's enough._

 _More than enough._

Jack smiled back at him.

'Though, worst thing about this time of year is probably the cold.' Mac rubbed his right knee. 'Stump aches more.'

Jack nodded sympathetically.

'Some sort of hot compress helps, right?' Mac nodded. 'Maybe you should fit some sort of heating pad in the inside of that leg of yours.'

Jack could practically see the gears turning in the younger man's head as he spoke.

Mac let go of him, glancing around at the assortment of tools and spare parts he kept near the grill (in case of last-minute repairs being necessary; the modifications he'd done to it made it somewhat…temperamental). He grabbed a few pieces, but was interrupted by a loud ringing noise. The repurposed alarm clock that served as the timer on the grill was going off.

Jack opened up the grill and, using tongs, transferred the pastrami (perfectly cooked and not on fire) to a plate.

'Come on, brother, you can work on your leg later. We've got pastrami to eat!'

* * *

' _Mom_?'

Riley started towards the door, where her mother, a broad smile on her face, stood. Bozer, who'd opened the door, moved away to let mother and daughter greet one another.

Diane took her daughter into her arms and kissed her on the forehead.

'Merry Christmas, baby girl.'

'But…but _how_?'

She and her mother practically didn't commemorate Christmas at all. Certainly, there'd been no plans for either of them to visit the other, and last-minute travel this time of year was practically impossible…

'Well, very early this morning, I got a call from Patricia, saying one of my daughter's friends had bought me a plane ticket from Vancouver to D.C, so I could surprise my daughter for Christmas, to show her that there is such a thing as a Christmas miracle. And so I thought, that if someone would do that for my little girl-'

'-The spirit of Christmas isn't a myth, and December 25th's not just another day.'

Riley gave her mom one last squeeze, then let go and glanced over at Bozer, who just grinned at her. Still shaking her head in disbelief, she matched his grin, and led her mother over to her friends to introduce them.

'Mom, this is Bozer and Mac…'

* * *

'Oh, look, mistletoe.'

Diane pointed upwards, then leaned over and kissed Jack on the cheek.

They looked at each other for a moment.

'Where did we go wrong, Diane?'

She sighed.

'Distance. And maybe we didn't fight hard enough.'

Jack nodded.

'I never thought that I was a good enough man for the two of you.'

Diane shook her head, a small smile growing on her face.

'Jack, Riley's forgiven you, she's accepted you and she trusts you. She accepted you and trusted you back then, too. You know my daughter. If she thinks that of you, you're obviously more than good enough, always have been.'

They looked into each other's eyes for a few beats.

'Washington D.C's a long way from Vancouver, Diane.'

She had a life there now, and he had one here.

Diane nodded, but gave him a small smile.

'Well, at least you're not changing addresses every second week anymore. Maybe it's not too late.'

* * *

In the kitchen, Riley, Bozer and Mac glanced at the pair under the mistletoe, then shared a significant look.

Riley groaned.

'Jack's great. He really is. Closest thing to a father I've ever had. But I _really_ don't want him to _actually_ be my stepdad!'

Mac shrugged.

'If he makes your mom happy…'

Riley's expression softened for a moment, before she made a face again.

'My mom's a strong independent woman who doesn't need no man, and she's got plenty of admirers back in Vancouver.'

Bozer put an arm around the young woman.

'It sucks when your OTP gets ruined, sweetheart, I sympathize.'

Riley was pretty convinced that Jack and Thornton belonged together, after all.

'It's not that…it's just… _ugh._ '

Mac looked over at Jack and Diane, then back at Riley.

'I think that's a pretty normal reaction to displays of affection between your parents… _agh_!'

He jumped.

Riley had seized a cold, wet dishcloth and thrust it against the back of his neck.

'Say that again, and it'll be snowballs at ten paces, Mac.'

Bozer leaned closer to the young woman, as Mac turned to her with a glare.

'Oh, you don't know what you've just started, baby…snowball fights against Mac…'

The blonde in question smirked.

'I never lose.'

* * *

… _and the Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Come._

* * *

Mac boxed up leftovers in the kitchen as Riley and Bozer tidied up the living room, Riley picking up dishes and Bozer putting wrapping paper into a trash bag. Diane was in the bathroom, while Jack and Thornton were out on the roof, cleaning up the grill.

Mac watched as Riley pointed up at the mistletoe, which she and Bozer were standing under, and then leaned over and kissed him on the lips. He looked away quickly, trying to give his friends some privacy.

A minute later, he smiled at Riley as she came into the kitchen, bearing a load of dirty plates. Bozer was still standing in the living room, a rather stunned expression on his face. Mac watched as it slowly morphed into the biggest grin Mac had seen on his best friend's face in years.

'You just made his Christmas.'

Riley glanced over at Bozer, a softness in her eyes and an uncharacteristically sweet smile on her face.

'He made mine.'

* * *

'See you, Patty, have yourself a merry Christmas!'

'Merry Christmas, Jack. Enjoy the gift.'

'Oh, I will, don't you worry, Patty. Hope you like yours.'

'I do. You always know exactly what to buy me.'

Jack and Thornton exchanged a kiss on the cheek.

 _Yup, they definitely knew each other before Jack started working for the Phoenix._

 _And she was definitely a spy, because however they met and however they know each other, it must be classified, since Jack never talks about it._

Thornton then hugged Mac, having already farewelled Bozer, Diane and Riley, and left the apartment.

The ex-CIA agent then turned to the mother and daughter. He pulled Riley into a hug, and then kissed Diane on the cheek.

'Merry Christmas, Riley. Merry Christmas, Diane. Have a safe trip home.'

Diane smiled at him.

'Well, since I'm here, I might as well stay for a few days. Spend time with Riley, see the sights of D.C, maybe catch up with some old friends…'

Jack nodded.

'Sounds like a plan.'

Riley shot a look at Mac and Bozer, who were both smirking, and gently tugged her mother out of the apartment.

'We should get going, Mom, it's late…'

* * *

Mac looked at the many boxes of paperclips, in assorted sizes and colours, and many rolls of duct tape, again in just about every size and colour available, that now sat in his room. Buried among the boxes and rolls of tape were a handful of gift cards to his favourite hardware store and a local appliances shop.

 _My friends, my family, really, know me well._

He had one last thing to do before he went to bed.

* * *

 _Hi Beth,_

 _Merry Christmas!_

 _I know it might not be a very merry time where you are, but Christmas is a time of hope and miracles and seeing the best in people. Maybe some of that Christmas magic will make it over there, and you'll get a Christmas miracle or hopefully several._

 _I've attached an assortment of pictures of Christmas light displays and the seasonal silly-season silly news, as well as a picture of my friends' Christmas presents to me. (Let's just say that if you're in the market for duct tape or paperclips in D.C, you might find that quite a few places are out of stock.) Hopefully they bring some much-needed Christmas cheer to you, your colleagues and the people you're helping…_

* * *

Chapter Song: Let It Snow, Dean Martin.

AN: There is a really, really large number of headcanons in this- like why Mac and Bozer have pastrami for Christmas, Riley shipping Jack/Thornton and not wanting her mom and Jack to get back together, Mac being good at snowball fights, Thornton being terrifyingly competent at everything, and Bozer being some sort of fanboy and hence being familiar with fandom terminology.


	12. You Just Have to Wait

**FEBRUARY 2016**

 **REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac, feeling rather nervous in a way that he hadn't for a very, very long time, walked out of Dr Lau's office and towards the area in the physiotherapy part of the building where the physios had their offices.

Cindy would be finishing up for the day, and he intended to catch her before she left.

They'd been flirting with one another (and he was sure of that, he was not _that_ oblivious) for the last couple of months, and today, he intended to take the next step and ask her out.

Now, he hadn't done this since he was fourteen and asking Darlene Martin to Prom (There hadn't really been any proper asking with Penny, it had just kind of happened, and Nikki had been the one to make the first move.), but on the bright side, he was also older, wiser and a good deal more confident than he was the last time.

 _I'm definitely not a skinny, shy, awkward fourteen-year-old high school Junior anymore._

 _And I'm biased, obviously, but I think the last couple of months show that my romance game's pretty on-point, as Bozer would say._

 _I know she's pretty interested. (And she thinks I have a cute butt, apparently.)_

 _What could go wrong?_

He was standing outside of her office as she walked out, her handbag in hand and ready to leave. She smiled broadly when she noticed him.

'Hey, Mac.'

'Hi, Cindy. How was your day?'

'Excellent, thank you. Pete's really making progress. I think he might be able to walk down the aisle at his wedding.'

Mac nodded.

'That's great news!' He paused and gave her what he hoped was his most charming smile. 'Would you like to go out for coffee with me?'

Her smile widened.

'I was wondering when you'd ask. I like a man with initiative.' She held out her phone to him and he took it and added his number to her contacts. 'But I think we can just skip the coffee; we've known each other quite a while now, after all. The Historic Congressional Cemetery is showing a Hitchcock double feature on Friday night…'

He handed her back her phone, and then handed her his so that she could give him her digits, and grinned.

'It's a date.'

'I'll text you the details later, Mac. See you!'

She smiled a rather brain-frying smile at him, and brushed past him, rather a lot closer than the relatively wide corridor required.

Mac watched her go, smile still very much in place.

Friday was going to be a good day.

* * *

 **PROFESSOR INTRIGUE'S ESCAPE ROOM**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac searched through a chest of drawers. On the other side of the room, Cindy pulled books off the bookshelf. He opened the top drawer.

 _Floppy disks…what in the world are floppy discs doing in here? Rather anachronistic, considering this is supposed to be some sort of old British professor's office from some unspecified time in the moderately-near past, say the early-mid 20_ _th_ _century…_

Cindy put down a wooden ornament that she'd been examining closely and addressed him.

'Make sure you search all the edges and the corners! Think outside the box. The last escape room I did…'

Mac smirked and looked around the room.

 _Think outside the box. I can do that._

Just then, something caught his eye. He walked over to an empty patch of wallpaper, and pointed at it. He could just about make something out…

'There's some sort of symbol here, but I can't make it out without a black light…'

Cindy smiled up at him.

'Great! Then we just have to find a black light in here…'

She started searching again.

'You know, it'd probably be faster to _make_ a black light.'

She looked up at him, disbelieving.

'How are you going to do that?'

She went back to searching frantically.

She did have a perfect escape room record to defend, after all.

Mac just smirked and walked over to the chest of drawers, pulling out his phone as he went.

 _Black lights aren't actually black._

 _They just have a special filter that filters out pretty much everything except UV light._

 _You can make one, using the light from a smartphone and part of a floppy disc._

Mac reached up and unscrewed the light bulb. The sudden darkness drew Cindy's attention, and she walked over to him. He held up the small black disc in front of the light on his phone and focused it on the symbol.

A tarot card was revealed. The Fool.

Cindy looked up at him, impressed.

'How'd you know how to do that?'

Mac shrugged.

'I watch a lot of YouTube videos.'

'Two more and we can get out of here!'

Mac moved the black light further along the wall, revealing a second tarot card. The Lovers.

 _And then it hit me._

 _I'm locked in a room with a beautiful and intelligent woman, and I'm trying to escape?_

 _What am I, crazy?_

He shoved his phone and the makeshift filter into his pocket, strode over to Cindy, and kissed her.

After a very pleasant few moments, he straightened up.

'I'm sorry…would you like me to stop?' She wound her hands around his neck, quite clearly not wanting him to stop. 'What about your perfect record?'

She smiled and leaned closer to him again.

'I think records are made to be broken…'

He leaned down and kissed her again.

* * *

 **MAC'S FAVOURITE DINER**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac and Cindy sat opposite one another at the little greasy-spoon diner (since Cindy had planned the first two dates, Mac thought it was only fair that he planned this one, so they'd gone to see a movie at a drive-in, then come here), eating a slice of blueberry pie each. It seemed awkward to share and more pie _was_ better than less pie…

The silence between them was somewhat uncomfortable.

They'd had a good first two dates (a _very_ good second one), but something had just felt off tonight.

Mac wasn't really sure what it was.

He definitely found her attractive- funny, and beautiful and intelligent, exactly his type, as his friends would say (though, he didn't think they had enough data to go off; he hadn't exactly been running around with a new girl every six months), and he quite liked her company, but something just didn't feel quite right.

Mac didn't have much experience with women (he had lots of experience with one woman), but he had a gut feeling that this really wasn't how it was supposed to go.

It certainly hadn't felt this way with Nikki on the third date, that was for sure. (He wasn't sure if he and Penny have even actually ever _been_ on three dates. It had been very much a first, high-school romance.)

It was kind of like how, sometimes, when he made something, he was so sure he'd wired everything up correctly, checked all the connections and in short, done everything properly, only to find it didn't work. He knew there had to be a reason, but sometimes he just couldn't find it. He'd heard enough from Jack and Charlie and the commandoes, and he'd read enough and watched enough TV to know that sometimes, things just didn't work out.

Cindy watched him, finishing off the last of her pie, noting how he was clearly lost in thought. Obviously, being lost in thought trying to pin down why a date wasn't going well during said date did not bode well for a potential couple. She smiled wanly at him.

'This isn't working out, Mac.'

Pulled out of his thoughts, he smiled sheepishly at her, biting his lip.

'It isn't, is it?'

She nodded, then shrugged.

'Ah well, we tried. It's a shame though, you're really good at escape rooms.'

He gave a half-laugh.

'Sorry for ruining your perfect record for nothing.'

She smiled at him.

'It wasn't for nothing; I had fun.'

He nodded in agreement.

'So did I.'

They sat there in awkward silence for a moment, before Cindy got up.

'I'll see you around, Mac.'

He waved and smiled at her, hoping that it didn't look as awkward as he felt.

'See you, Cindy.'

She walked out of the diner, leaving him there to finish his pie.

 _Dating is complicated._

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

The floor of the apartment was covered in rose petals and there were candles set out on the dining table.

'Uh, Bozer?'

His roommate was in the kitchen, cooking what looked like a rather fancy meal.

'Oh, hey, Mac. You're back earlier than I expected…' Mac indicated the set-up, an eyebrow raised, and Bozer explained. 'Oh, well I thought you might bring Cindy back here, so I thought I'd help you set the mood. You know, help you out with your romance game.'

Mac nodded slowly.

 _There is a… significance…attached to the third date._

'Thanks, I appreciate it, Bozer, but my romance game is fine.'

Bozer looked sceptical.

'You're back early, and flying solo, bro.'

Mac shook his head.

'We decided that it wasn't working out. That happens, that's life.'

Bozer didn't look quite convinced, and eyed Mac with concern.

 _Well, Cindy is the first woman I've dated since Nikki and my leg._

 _And Bozer's always been a little Mama Bear._

Mac reached out and clasped Bozer's shoulder, trying to reassure him.

'Of course I'm not _happy_ that it didn't work out, but really, Bozer, I'm fine. I promise.'

Bozer didn't look completely convinced, but he nodded, clasped Mac's shoulder briefly, and turned back to his cooking.

'If it's okay with you, bro, I might take this duck l'orange over to Riley's. It's a shame to waste it, and I said I might crash at hers anyway…'

Mac grinned.

 _Well, at least one of us is succeeding romantically._

* * *

The next morning, a Sunday, Jack showed up at Mac and Bozer's with coffee and bagels in hand.

'I'm sorry about Cindy, brother.'

Mac just shook his head, smiling.

 _He can never stay out of my business._

 _I guess that's family._

'I'm fine, Jack, really.' He eyed the bagel bag hopefully. 'Did you get me poppyseed?'

Jack just shook his head fondly, and walked over to the couch where Bozer sat. He flopped down, opened up the bag, and tossed Mac a poppyseed bagel.

'Like I could forget how much you like those things, kid.'

Mac grinned and happily dug into his bagel.

He'd gotten through about half of it when he noticed the looks that Jack and Bozer were giving him. Concerned looks.

 _Yup, that's family._

He sighed, took another bite, and chewed, taking his time.

'I have no idea what I'm doing.' He took another bite of his bagel, chewed and swallowed. 'Nikki and I were together for so long…' He shrugged. 'I guess I've got no experience of dating outside of school or college. Apparently, dating is very different inside and outside of educational institutions.' Jack raised an eyebrow at him. 'I read that online.'

The older man shook his head.

'You're not going to learn about women or dating from _reading_ , brother.'

Bozer nodded sagely.

'Don't trust the internet. Pick-up lines never work.'

The other two men responded at the same time.

'Depends on the line.'

'I knew _that_.'

They all shared a glance and a quick laugh, before Mac reached for a paperclip from the bowl on the coffee table, face turning serious again.

'I have a lot of experience with one woman, and pretty much no experience with women in general.' He played with the paperclip, which was quickly taking the shape of a question mark. 'Dating is weird and hard.'

Bozer and Jack both raised their coffee cups, and tapped them together with Mac's.

'Amen to that, brother.'

'Oh, yeah, bro, oh, yeah.'

Jack reached out and clasped his shoulder.

'You'll learn from experience, brother. You're a quick learner, and you're good at improvising.' Mac snorted. Jack squeezed his shoulder again. 'Besides, you're doing pretty well, brother. There was that German nurse, and then Cindy, and you're still writing to that doctor, aren't you?'

Bozer pointed at Jack, nodding in agreement, then reached out and high-fived Mac.

'My man Jack's right, bro, you're doing pretty well with the ladies.' He jogged Mac with his elbow. 'Hey, maybe you and your pen-pal could go all _You've Got Mail._ '

At Jack's bemused expression, Bozer and Mac explained.

'It's a rom-com, man.'

'Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks run rival bookstores and hate each other in real life, but meet online, exchange emails and fall in love.'

Jack shook his head.

'I know what _You've Got Mail_ is about. Got dragged to the movies by a woman I was dating to see it. I'm wondering why _you_ know what it's about.'

Mac and Bozer spoke in unison.

'Penny.'

'She loves that film. _Loves_ it, man.'

'Wasn't she like, ten, when it came out?'

Mac and Bozer shrugged.

'Apparently, it's a classic.'

'And apparently, Nora Ephron was the best rom-com writer to have ever lived.'

The three men sat there staring at each other for a moment, not exactly certain what had just happened. Eventually, Mac broke the silence.

'It's not like that, anyway. Beth and I are friends. She wished me good luck asking Cindy out. We're that sort of friends.'

Bozer and Jack winced. Mac rolled his eyes.

 _Last time I checked, being friends, just friends, was not a bad thing!_

Bozer reached out and patted him on the back.

'Stuck in the friend-zone. _Ouch,_ bro.'

Mac rolled his eyes again.

'Doesn't being friend-zoned actually require someone rejecting someone else? This is very mutual, guys, I promise.' Jack and Bozer looked fairly convinced, so Mac decided to push forward and clarify further before they made any more erroneous assumptions. 'Look, I like having a pen-pal. I'm pretty sure Beth likes having one too. It's nice to have another friend.'

Jack and Bozer both nodded. Jack patted him on the back. Bozer pulled another poppyseed bagel out of the bag and handed it to Mac.

'Friends are awesome, bro, but we should still find you a girl.'

Jack took a sip of his coffee.

'Maybe your pen-pal's got a friend she can set you up with.'

Mac laughed.

'Maybe.'

* * *

 _Hey Beth,_

 _Cindy and I didn't work out, I'm afraid. Sometimes, that just happens, I think. Two people just don't quite fit together. At least we worked it out after only three dates, and not, say, six months later._

 _Dating is hard, and weird. My grandfather used to tell me stories about drive-ins and diners, but now, it's apparently movies in cemeteries and escape rooms. What's so romantic about that? I really don't get it…_

* * *

 _Hey Mac,_

 _Oh, that sucks! I was rooting for you guys! I was hoping that you'd get that sappy ride-off-into-the-sunset-together rom-com ending. Firstly, and more importantly, because I want you to be happy, of course, and secondly, because I could frankly use some happy news (I hate rom-coms, but I think I'm starting to see why people like them so much.). It's been a tough few days, hence the lateness of my reply- sorry! Now that the winter's more or less over, we're getting more arrivals again. During the winter, a lot of the arrivals were in really bad shape and we saw a lot of tragedy and sheer desperation, and maybe naively, I thought it'd be better when the weather got warmer. I think I was wrong._

 _Ugh, I don't want to send you depressing messages; I like the fact that we're generally fairly light-hearted. Back to that!_

 _Dating is definitely hard and definitely weird, at least in my (limited) experience. I think the cemeteries thing might be so that you have more of an excuse for 'hold me, I'm scared'. (Though, I'm pretty sure most people don't even bother with an excuse.) As for the escape rooms, most people would probably quite enjoy being locked alone in a room, but not in any sort of danger, with a person to whom they are attracted. Having said that, diners are awesome (I've always wanted to go to one where the waitresses are on roller skates- do those actually exist?), and I've never been to a drive-in (I'll put it on the list, don't worry- maybe I can find a drive-in that's showing The Martian!), but it does sound like fun…_

* * *

Chapter song: You Can't Hurry Love, The Supremes.


	13. A Long Way From Where We Began

**MARCH 2016**

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac grinned as he packed his laptop into his backpack. Hopefully, he'd be able to get some reading done on the plane; he'd finally been fitted with a permanent prosthesis, though some adjustments would still be necessary as the swelling continued to go down, and he was hoping to make some improvements to it, which required him to do some more research.

He, Jack, Bozer and Riley were all heading back to Mission City; Mr Ericson, Mac's beloved 8th grade science teacher, had finally managed to get him to come talk to his science class. Besides, Mac hadn't returned to Mission City since he'd left for college, and while it was partly because he'd simply never had the time (he'd spent all of his breaks at MIT taking summer and winter courses- how else would he have been able to graduate two years early?- during college, and then there was the Army), it was also due to the fact that he had so many happy memories there, so felt a little guilty about that, since it was where he'd lost his mom. Still, that was getting better. He'd talked to Dr Lau about that when he'd informed her he was going to miss a session because of his trip, and he'd talked to Jack about it (a somewhat long-winded anecdote about Jack's father and a car had been involved), and was even considering writing to his dad about it.

He was looking forward to the trip. Apparently, Burger Nirvana was still going strong.

And it'd be nice to show his home town to Jack and Riley and reminisce with Bozer.

He'd told his friends, of course, that there was absolutely no need for them to go with him and waste their vacation time, but they'd all insisted on going along.

Apparently, Jack was keen on a road trip together (they were flying into LA and driving up), and Bozer had made plans to speak with a couple of film studios in LA. His career was starting to take off. With Riley's help, he'd greatly improved his CGI skills (the monster who ate General Wang in Bozer's latest film no longer looked like Mac covered in ping-pong balls), and that film had become some sort of viral, cult-classic-cheesy-horror-hit, in the same vein as Sharknado. Hence, Bozer was actually getting a foot in the door with a couple of smaller film studios. Riley hadn't even offered an excuse, though, Mac supposed, if two of her closest friends and her boyfriend were going, it made sense for her to go too.

He finished up the last of his packing, and hefted his backpack onto his shoulder, grabbed the handle of his suitcase, and walked out the door.

 _It's been a long time, but Mission City, here I come._

* * *

 **JACK'S RENTAL CAR**

 **ON-ROUTE TO MISSION CITY**

* * *

'…the minivan is the workhorse of the middle class. Besides, it was the last car left in the lot.'

'It's lime-green, figures.'

* * *

'…That stuff you bought isn't going to blow up or leak all over the seats, is it?'

'It's hydrogen peroxide, and no, it isn't. Those Winchesters are specially designed to safely store it.'

'And it's leatherette, man, my grandma's cat could do its business all over it, and it'd all wash out…'

'…that's disgusting.'

'You know you love it, baby.'

* * *

 **JACK'S RENTAL CAR**

 **OUTSKIRTS OF MISSION CITY**

* * *

'Wow, Bozer, Mac, it's beautiful up here…'

Riley looked out the window, watching the scenery go by.

Sitting in the front seat, also looking out the window, Mac nodded.

'Yeah, Mission City has its charms.'

In the back next to Riley, Bozer nodded vigorously.

'Oh, yeah, burgers at Burger Nirvana…' He smirked deviously and reached forward to tap Mac on the shoulder. 'Hey, you should look up Darlene Martin, see what she's up to…'

Mac groaned, as Riley and Jack's smiles grew wider, and they turned to him, curious.

'Darlene? You never told me about Darlene…'

Mac groaned again at the look on Jack's face, while Bozer's grin only grew wider.

'She was Mac's chem lab partner during our Junior year. Prettiest girl in the school. Mac had a huge crush on her. Huge!'

The blonde sighed and shook his head.

'I lost a bet to Bozer and had to ask her to Prom.'

In the back, Riley smiled at her boyfriend.

'You helped Mac get a Prom date?'

Bozer bit his lip and shook his head slowly.

'Well, uh…not exactly, she shot Mac down cold…'

'I didn't want to go to Prom anyway, there was a live shuttle launch on TV that I wanted to watch.'

'You lost a bet so had to ask a hot girl to Prom? Your high school experience was very different to mine…'

'And what were you like in high school, old man?'

'Well, Riley, I played football…'

* * *

 **MISSION CITY JUNIOR HIGH**

 **MISSION CITY**

* * *

'…He went to MIT, graduated two years early, and then served in the Army for seven years, disarming bombs, and now he works at a think-tank, solving the problems of the future.'

Mac stood awkwardly at the front of Mr Ericson's (he was never going to be able to think of him as Arthur) 8th grade science class.

'Hi, I'm Mac.'

He waved at the students. Most of them were silent and looked rather disinterested, but a girl with blonde hair and glasses looked up at him with great interest.

'Did you really build a four-cylinder engine when you were in the 5th grade?'

Mac nodded.

'Yeah, I wanted to make it a six-cylinder one, but I couldn't get all the parts.'

The girl nodded.

'What would you do if one of the cylinders cracked?'

He was answering her question, which was a really good one, talking about how welds were his preferred technique, since a cold technique like pinning didn't do anything for the micro-fractures, when he became aware that he'd lost every other student in the class.

'…And we can talk about that more after class.'

He smiled at the girl, who smiled back.

Mac rubbed his hands together, and addressed the students as a whole.

'Now, who likes to watch things blow up?'

That got the reaction he was hoping for.

 _The elephant's toothpaste is a classic._

* * *

Meanwhile, Bozer was showing Riley and Jack around Mission City Junior High.

He led them over to a set of lockers, and pointed at a particular spot.

'And this is where I met Mac, back when we were in the 5th grade. Donnie Sandoz was beating him up, so I broke his nose.' Bozer smiled, lost in a fond memory. 'Got suspended for two weeks, but Mac came over every day to do my homework, and we've been best friends ever since.'

'Mac was bullied?'

Riley sounded somewhat surprised, which, Bozer guessed, wasn't all _that_ surprising. Mac was relatively cool and confident and smooth now, and he'd grown up to be tall and handsome and strong, even if he was still a nerd who got excited by weird things and was a little awkward at times.

'He skipped two grades, and with a name like Angus, and the police involvement and incidents like the Football Field Incident…'

Jack and Riley were instantly all over that.

' _Police_ involvement?'

'Football Field Incident?'

Bozer backtracked frantically.

'Oh, some of Mac's experiments got a little out of hand, and he used to like to break into the labs after hours and on weekends to work on them, and we pinky-promised never to talk about the Football Field Incident again…' Bozer led them away from the lockers, towards the gym. 'And this is where Mac made lightning indoors…'

Jack and Riley exchanged a look.

They were totally getting the story of the Football Field Incident out of Mac and Bozer before they went home.

* * *

Mac and Mr Ericson smiled at one another as the students filed out of the class, all except for the girl who'd asked Mac about the V4 engine, who walked to the back room where Mr Ericson had let him keep some of his projects, and brought out a robot, carrying it over to her bench, where she started tinkering with it.

'You're a natural, Mac. If you ever get tired of the think-tank…'

He followed Mac's gaze to the girl in the glasses.

'That's Valerie Lawson. Just twelve years old. Devours everything I throw at her; physics, chemistry, biology. She's the brightest student I've had…well, since you.' Mr Ericson sighed, and leaned closer to Mac. 'I've been concerned about her, of late. She lost her mom a while back, and a couple of months ago, her grades started slipping.'

Mac nodded slowly.

'Just like mine did when my dad left.'

The older man nodded.

'She's been quiet, too. Just then, talking to you? That was the most I've heard her speak for weeks.'

Mac took a step towards Valerie (he saw _so_ much of himself in her), then hesitated. Mr Ericson motioned at him to go on, so he took a seat next to her at her bench and started asking her about the origins of the processers she'd used.

* * *

Mac glanced at the clock. It was now almost four.

'Do you need to get home, Valerie?'

He already knew the answer (he'd been just the same back when he was her age, when his dad left), but this was probably the best way to get her to open up.

The girl shook her head.

'No.' She glanced up at him, and apparently decided that it was okay to open up to him. 'My dad's always at work. He's not going to be home until late.' She looked down and played with the heart necklace around her neck. 'I don't have my mom anymore.'

She started working on her robot again. Mac reached over to give her a hand.

'I miss my mom too. She passed away when I was five.'

Valerie nodded slowly, playing with her necklace again.

He watched the young girl, sad and lonely and brilliant. So much like him at that age. Lonelier than he was, even. He had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't have someone like Bozer to watch her back and be her partner-in-crime. He'd been very lucky.

 _Then, it hit me._

'Valerie, could you ask your dad if it's okay with him if I took you somewhere tomorrow, after school? It's not far, it's still in Mission City. Tell him I'm an old student of Mr Ericson's, or I could even come to your house and meet him, if he thinks that'd be better…'

She nodded, almost sadly.

'Yeah, he won't mind. He'll be at work, anyway.'

Mac gave her a sad little smile, which she returned, before standing up. He had a lot of work to do before tomorrow.

'I'll come pick you up after school tomorrow.'

Her smile widened and she waved at him as he rushed out.

 _It's been a long time, but it's time for me and Bozer to go back to the lab._

* * *

 **To: Bozer**

 **I need you to meet me at the lab; I'll explain there.**

He hesitated for a moment.

Jack and Riley would understand.

 **Just you, please? I think this is something we have to do, just the two of us, together.**

* * *

 **MAC AND BOZER'S LAB**

 **LOCATION: TOP-SECRET**

* * *

Mac and Bozer climbed up the rope and into the old treehouse.

They looked around.

It was dusty and full of cobwebs, but it was exactly as they'd left it.

Mac reached out and picked up an old telescope he'd made. He looked through it, and then handed it to Bozer.

'Watch out for spiders, but I think it still works.'

Bozer took it and looked through it with a grin, before putting it down.

Both of their gazes fell onto a faded old photo of the two of them, tacked to the wall.

'God, we were so tiny then, bro.'

Mac nodded, reaching out to bump fists with his best friend.

'We've changed a lot, but at least not everything's changed.'

Bozer grinned and put an arm around the taller man.

'Best friends forever, bro.' Then, he let go and started tidying up the shelf nearest to him. 'Now, you wanted to clean this up for your gender-swapped mini-me?'

* * *

Mac led Valerie though the trees, to the rope at the base of the treehouse. It'd taken a while, but he and Bozer had managed to get it all cleaned up.

He'd borrowed the lime-green mini-van from Jack (with strict instructions to keep feet off the dash), which had earned a laugh from Valerie, and the two of them had set off after school to the lab.

He held the rope out to her.

'Can you climb a rope?'

She made a face, but nodded.

'Yeah, we have to do it in PE class. I hate it, but I can do it.'

They made their way into the treehouse, and Valerie looked around in wonder. Mac grinned.

'Welcome to my lab. My best friend, Bozer, and I made this when we were in junior high.' Mac reached out and grabbed the telescope. 'It was the place I felt safest for years.' He handed Valerie the telescope, who took it with a smile and peered through it out the window.

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, then Mac reached over to a shelf, and started showing her all the other little treasures in the treehouse.

An hour or so later, he glanced at his watch.

'We have to go soon. I've got to get you home to your dad.' Valerie's face fell. Mac reached over and pulled the photo of him and Bozer off the wall. 'But you can come back, anytime you want.' Valerie looked up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. 'The lab? It's yours now.' Her face broke into a full-on grin. 'But you have to promise me three things. One, you will come here often.' She nodded eagerly. His voice softened and grew more serious. 'Two, remind your dad that you're there for him. I know he's pushing you away; push back.' She played with her necklace, looking down and lost in thought. Mac crouched down, glad that he could reasonably comfortably now, and put his hands on her shoulders. 'I know you miss your mom, but remember, he lost her too. But at least you still have each other. Don't forget that.' She kept playing with her necklace, but nodded solemnly. 'Three, keep in touch.' Mac straightened up, pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote down his phone number and email address on the back of the photo and handed it to her. 'If you've ever got any questions, or if you just want to talk, that's how you can reach me.' He smiled wryly. 'Email might be better if you've got a lot to say, and it's easier to send photos that way, too.'

Smiling, Valerie tucked the photo into her pocket.

'I promise.' She stood there for a moment, then flung her arms around him. Mac hugged her back gently. 'Thanks, Mac. Thanks so much.'

'You're very welcome.'

* * *

 **BURGER NIRVANA**

 **MISSION CITY**

* * *

That evening, Mac, Jack, Bozer and Riley sat in Burger Nirvana, enjoying burgers, fries and shakes.

Mac pulled his attention away from the group of policemen ordering at the counter (apparently, Donnie Sandoz was a cop now), and turned to his friends.

'Sorry for ditching you guys so much the last couple of days.'

They all smiled at him. Jack, who was sitting beside him, reached an arm around his shoulders, and Bozer and Riley each gave him a fist-bump.

'It's all cool, bro.'

'We get it, brother.'

'Still got a couple of days of vacation left, anyway.'

Then, Jack and Riley exchanged a smirk.

'Though, if you're feeling guilty, brother…'

'…we'd really love to hear all about the Football Field Incident.'

Mac looked down at his burger, a smile on his face, and shook his head with a sigh.

'Tell them, Bozer.'

Bozer put down his burger and finished chewing, swallowed, and then spoke.

'Did you notice the football stadium next to the school?'

Jack and Riley shook their heads.

'What football stadium?'

'There's nothing there.'

Bozer nodded.

'Exactly.' He took a sip of his milkshake. 'Mac and I burnt it down.'

Jack and Riley exchanged a glance, then looked at the blonde.

'A fire?'

'From an experiment gone wrong?'

Mac bit his lip, and then gave his friends a sheepish smile.

'More like a small nuclear meltdown.'

* * *

 _Hi Mac,_

 _I'm trying to build a hydrogen fuel cell, but I'm having a bit of trouble with the electrodes/catalyst. I know you can use Rhodium or Palladium or Platinum, but they're kind of out of my budget. What do you think about using nichrome wire, since Nickel's in the same group as Palladium and Platinum and nichrome's pretty corrosion-resistant?_

 _Also, did you really cause a small nuclear meltdown and destroy the football stadium when you were my age? Apparently, Dana Sandoz (the most popular Senior at Mission City High) has been telling everyone that her older brother swore you did since your visit, and Mr Wilson says your name as if you're the scum of the earth (which is weird, because everyone else says you're a war hero and I overheard Darren Martin telling his contractor buddies in Burger Nirvana the other day that his sister is kicking herself for not going to Prom with you)._

 _And…I took your advice. About my dad. We talked a bit, and, well, tomorrow he's taking me to the garage and we're going to work on restoring this old car he bought years and years ago. I think it's going to be fun!_

 _Valerie_

* * *

 _Dear Dad,_

 _I just got back from Mission City. Mr Ericson invited me to talk to his 8_ _th_ _grade science class, and I had some vacation time saved up, so my friends and I decided to go. I haven't been back there since I left for college; it surprised me how little has changed…_

… _Remember how we started drifting apart, after we lost Mom, and then everything just fell apart? In hindsight, I just wish that maybe I'd tried a little harder- chipped away at the distance more, maybe. Then again, I was a kid, and didn't really know what to do. (I'm not trying to blame you, I promise- for a long time, I did, I think, but, now that I'm older and wiser and time's gone by, I think that maybe it wasn't really either of our faults. Just life. And I don't think blame really matters any more, not when it's been so long. I think we should just try and move on, fix this up as best as we can.)_

 _Anyway, I think I might have prevented what happened to us happening to a little girl and her father. I'm glad that at least something good has come out of what I went through, what we went through…_

* * *

 _Hey Beth,_

 _My new prosthesis is great, thanks for asking. It's definitely better than the temporary one, and I guess it's given me a feeling that I've made progress and gotten better, since it was a bit of a milestone and all. I'm already making plans for a couple of improvements (to function, to form and a couple just because I think they'll be cool- I'm fulfilling a couple of childhood dreams) for it; would you mind looking over the plans? (if you have time, of course, I don't want to distract you from your work) I'd like a medical professional's perspective on it, and I know this is way out of your field, but I think I've already annoyed my entire medical team enough with my questions, and hey, at least you, unlike me, have a medical degree and presumably did better than a C in Biology._

 _Also, I met a girl when I was back in Mission City. She's a lot like me, and I think a lot like you, too. Her name is Valerie, and she's twelve and in the 8_ _th_ _grade, like we were. Funnily enough, she's also in Mr Ericson's (my 8_ _th_ _grade science teacher) class…_

* * *

Chapter song: See You Again, Wiz Khalifa feat. Charlie Puth.

AN: Some of this is more or less the same as the relevant chapter in _Best Days of Your Life_ , particularly some of the dialogue. I tried re-writing it to be different, but ultimately wasn't satisfied, so decided if it isn't broke, don't fix it.

I'm very fond of Pliers, in general, as an episode, and very fond of Valerie, so I keep coming up with AUs in which Mac can be much closer to her, and more big-brotherly, because he isn't a secret agent…such as this universe or the _Best Days of Your Life_ universe. (In fact, I think I just keep coming up with AUs where the whole team aren't secret agents so they can just be a happy family and have happy endings…)

For a glimpse of Bozer's perspective on this chapter, see _The Ersatz Flashback_ in _The Roommate Chronicles._


	14. Love is Like a Soldier

**MAY 2016**

 **CHARLIE'S WEDDING RECEPTION**

 **NEW YORK**

* * *

'I'm totally inspired, bro. I've got the perfect end scene to my next movie all planned out now.'

Mac, who was sitting with Bozer at his, Riley and Jack's table (he and Jack had brought Bozer and Riley as their plus-ones), sipping a glass of champagne, reached out and clapped his best friend on the shoulder. The two young men were taking a break from all the dancing; Bozer and Riley had taken a couple of turns on the dancefloor, as had Mac with one of the new Mrs Robinson's best friends (who, just as Charlie had said, was blonde, pretty, smart and good company, but Mac was quite sure there was nothing there. Charlie would probably be disappointed, but Mac didn't end up interested in every beautiful and intelligent woman he came across- he'd really be in big trouble if he did!).

'What's it going to be about?'

Bozer held up his hands in a dramatic gesture.

'Think _Love Actually_ …but as much about the platonic love as it is about the romance, bro. A soldier comes home from war, only to find that his girlfriend has left him and has to rely on his friends to help him through tough times. Meanwhile, his fellow soldier, his older brother in all but blood, starts a new job and has serious chemistry with his boss, while also reconnecting with an old flame. Sets up this love triangle that looks like it's going to get all messy and cat-fight-y, but it actually ends up being resolved peacefully and respectfully and with them all being on good terms because they're all friends and adults. At the same time, the first soldier's best friend and roommate makes it big in the filmmaking industry and becomes friends with and then gets together with the second soldier's old flame's daughter…Anyway, the end scene's going to be set at the surprise wedding of the older soldier and his boss, five years after the rest of the film…it's a serious slow build between those two, don't get me wrong, but once they get together…well, they're older, they know what's important, and they decide there's been too many missed chances and wasted years, hence surprise wedding.'

Mac nodded slowly.

 _I am completely unsurprised that Riley's converted him to her way of thinking._

 _Though, maybe that way of thinking's not as crazy as I thought it was._

 _Jack told me that he and Diane tried again, but it didn't work out._

 _Something about time and distance and being different people living different lives than they were before. They're still friends._

 _He does call her Patty._

 _And she hasn't killed him for it yet._

 _In fact, she never even tells him off for doing so…_

 _And they've got a closeness._

 _And a history. Even if it's classified._

 _Maybe Riley's on to something._

 _Maybe._

Mac took a sip of his champagne, and then raised an eyebrow at his best friend.

'So it's about us?'

Bozer shook his head.

'Nah, bro, it's set in LA.'

'…Right.'

* * *

 _They were all worried about me, Jack and Riley and Bozer. (And Penny and Patricia and the rest of the taskforce.)_

 _Even Charlie, despite the fact that this was his big day._

 _I did hope to marry Nikki, after all._

 _But I'm fine._

 _I'm happy for Charlie, and I'm having fun, not sitting here moping._

 _Really._

 _I promise._

 _It's not as if I'm ever going to be able to forget Nikki and our relationship and how it all ended._

 _But I don't feel like she's missing from my life anymore._

 _I don't miss her, not any more._

 _I don't feel like there's a gaping hole in my life._

 _I haven't for quite a while now, actually._

 _I think, soon, I'll just be able to look back on our relationship, see the happy times and recognize them just as what they are- good, happy times with a woman I loved, in my past._

 _I think I've moved on._

 _Maybe I have for a while now._

* * *

Mac and Jack shared a look, and then a chuckle.

The bouquet toss had just been held.

Riley, being Riley, had refused to participate, and just stood with her friends next to their table.

However, Fate or Chance or whatever had other ideas.

The bunch of flowers sailed through the air, over the reaching arms of just about every single woman at the wedding…and hit Riley on the head. She caught it reflexively.

The looks on her face and on Bozer's face were priceless.

Fortunately for Jack and Mac, who were too distracted to record the moment for posterity, the wedding photographer managed to capture it all on camera.

The man winked at the two of them, and the two veterans exchanged a devious smirk.

 _We're going to have so much fun with that photo._

* * *

 _I've got really, really amazing friends in my life._

 _Family, really._

 _I'd like to get married one day and have a big party with all of my loved ones in attendance, like Charlie did._

 _I'd like a wife and kids and maybe a dog called Archimedes the Second and even a white picket fence._

 _But I'm perfectly happy with what I've got right now._

 _I'm only twenty-six._

 _I'm still young._

 _I've got plenty of time to find a woman to be my girlfriend, and hopefully my wife one day._

 _I'll enjoy what I have for now; spend time with my friends, work on improving my prosthesis and on my other projects, enjoy my work at the Phoenix…_

 _And who knows?_

 _My grandfather did say that love finds you, not the other way around._

 _Maybe it'll sneak up on me._

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Mac emptied out his pockets and put the re-shaped paperclips on his bedside table.

The drive back to Washington D.C from New York was a long one, and he'd had plenty of time to make a few things to keep his hands busy.

A set of paperclip wedding rings, a bouquet, a little wire dress, a bowtie, a camera and a champagne glass now all sat there in a heap.

Mac stared at them for a moment, then walked back out in to the kitchen.

He returned a minute later, then picked up the little paperclip charms, as well as the others that he'd made over the last few months that were just lying around, and put them into the bowl he'd picked up.

 _We had a bowl like this on our coffee table, me and Nikki._

 _Full of tokens, talismans that I'd made for her._

 _Symbols of our relationship, I guess._

 _Memories._

 _Some of these things that I've made are silly or weird or don't really make any sense._

 _But they all mean something to me; I did make them all for some sort of reason._

 _(Even if I can't remember it for all of them – that cold medication really threw me for a loop.)_

 _This can be a new bowl of memories, full of symbols and memories of my life now._

Mac sat down on his bed, leaning against the headboard. He picked up the bowl of bent paperclips and gazed at it for a while, a mess of half-formed thoughts floating through his mind.

 _The truth is important._

 _It might hurt, to tell or to hear, sometimes, but it's important._

 _I've always known that; didn't need my grandfather to teach me that lesson._

 _All of my friends know the truth._

 _Except one._

 _Honestly, it's probably past time I fixed that._

After a few minutes, he nodded and reached over to his desk, grabbing his laptop. He wasn't sure where this sudden impulse had come from, but he was going to listen to it.

* * *

 _Hey Beth,_

 _You remember how I told you that I had a girlfriend, Nikki, all the way from my first year at MIT until last September? Well, of course you remember…oh, I'll just get on with it._

 _The truth is, she left me. She was cheating on me, and she left me as soon as I got out of hospital. I guess I don't exactly blame her, since I was gone all the time, but still, I feel that I was wronged…_

* * *

 _Oh, Mac, I'm so, so sorry. God, I wish I could be there and give you a big, big hug right now! I know it was a while ago, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt, even if you're healing. I think it's terrible that something so horrid happened to you, but I guess we both know, terrible things happen to good people, don't they? (Which is why we have to work hard to tip the scales.)_

 _You've probably heard this a million times before, but you didn't deserve that. (I'm not actually sure if anyone deserves to have their heart broken in such a fashion, least of all you!)_

 _But then again, I'm not always sure if it's about deserving. Yeah, she definitely should have said something. You were definitely the wronged party. I guess relationships of all kinds are just hard, sometimes, just plain hard. (Hey, at least this email relationship is easy. Always look on the bright side, right?) I had a boyfriend all the way through med school, and I thought he was the one (if there's such a thing), but doing residencies at hospitals just two hours away from each other meant we just fell apart. Obviously, nowhere near as bad as what happened to you, but what I'm trying to say is that I kind of understand._

 _I still really want to give you that hug…maybe you could invent a teleportation device! (If anyone can do it, you can, out of a stick of gum, some duct tape, a toaster and a handful of paperclips!)…_

* * *

Mac sat there, in his room, staring at Beth's email, his brain whirring away at a million miles a minute.

 _She's right._

 _I'm pretty sure it was just a random thought, she has quite a few of those, but she's right, and I'm certain she meant it._

 _This email relationship we have, it's easy._

 _Maybe it's the medium…or maybe it's us._

He blinked several times.

 _And then, it hit me._

He smiled wryly, shaking his head.

 _If this goes somewhere, Jack and Bozer and Riley are never going to let me hear the end of this._

 _My grandfather really was a very wise man._

* * *

 _Hey Beth,_

 _I would very much like a hug from you, but teleportation's a tricky beast and I'd rather not get either of us sent to an alternate dimension or mysteriously lost like a certain beagle…_

* * *

 _Hey Mac,_

 _Oh, what a lovely surprise! I needed something to make me smile- thank you! They're great photos- that look on Riley's face when she caught the bouquet? And Bozer's? (Oh, and tell Riley she's got really awesome hair for me? And Bozer's either a lot shorter than I imagined him being, or you're all really rather tall. Maybe the latter- to the best of my recollection, you and Jack are both fairly tall…)_

 _And you look very handsome. (A huge improvement on the last time I saw you! I think it's the hair…or maybe camo isn't really your colour…) Makes me wish I had some dressed-up pictures to send you in exchange. That might have to wait a couple of months (I'll put it on my list!) - you'll take a rain check, right? As a deposit, here's a picture of me and a very little patient from one of the happier times out here – babies are almost always good, I think, and at least this little girl has a glimmer of hope in her future, instead of being born into a warzone…_

* * *

… _Thank you, I'm very flattered that you think that, but seriously, scrubs are about as flattering as the proverbial potato sack. Though, I bet you could make a pretty dress out of a potato sack (and maybe some duct tape and paperclips, and I don't know, a turkey baster or something), kind of like how the Mythbusters tried to herd cats and made a lead balloon…_

* * *

 _Hey Mac,_

 _Oh my God! That is glorious! You actually made a pretty dress using a potato sack, duct tape and paperclips (But where's the turkey baster? I demand a turkey baster!)! You totally missed your calling- maybe you should rectify that? When I get back, I expect you to be preparing for New York Fashion Week and Angus MacGyver to be the name on everyone in the fashion world's lips._

 _Seriously, I really, really needed a laugh. (How did you know that? Can you read minds, too?) Thank you…_

* * *

… _of course I'd model it for you…_

* * *

Chapter song: Bonfire Heart, James Blunt.

AN: To find out exactly what happened when Mac took that cold medication, check out _The Medication Mystery_ in _The Roommate Chronicles._ Today's update, _The Potato Sack Revelation,_ also covers events in this chapter.

I do hope I pulled off that turning point fairly well; you have no idea how hard it was to write Mac and Beth's evolving relationship entirely over excerpts from emails and occasional glimpses into Mac's head! (There were a lot of re-writes and re-working of the whole thing.) Especially since I wanted to keep the focus of this story on friendship/family/recovery, and not romance (rest assured that this is the most romance-focused chapter in the entire fic, in my honest opinion). In fact, in the original plan of this story, Beth was only supposed to appear in the first chapter as a cameo, like she does in a lot of my other stories, mostly because I'm too lazy to make up new people and as a running gag of sorts, and because I really like the whole concept of many alternate universes that are both similar and different, but then Mac decided that he wanted to write to the people who saved his life and the plot bunnies took over.

I suppose my main concern is that it might not seem realistic that they are definitely, mutually just friends, not even considering the other as a potential romantic interest, until they suddenly _do_ consider the other person as a potential romantic interest, but on balance, I think it is, given their circumstances. (And, at least, similar, sort-of, things have happened to me, and to people I know/know of?)


	15. We Will Light Our Way

**JULY 2016**

 **REHAB CENTRE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

'…I don't know what happened. One minute I was watching the 4th of July fireworks with my friends on the deck, and next moment, I'm ducking for cover and I'm back in Afghanistan…' Mac ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. 'It just doesn't make sense, I know exactly what they are and where I am, I know I'm not in any danger, I know they're perfectly harmless entertainment for celebrative purposes…'

Dr Lau patiently listened to his rant.

'…I was fine with watching them at Jack's on New Year's Eve…'

On New Year's Eve, knowing that the fireworks would probably be rather difficult for Mac (Jack too, but he was a bit better with them, since Delta Force commandoes were trained to distract hostiles with loud noises), Mac and his friends had all gathered at Jack's place to watch the fireworks together. They'd drawn all the blinds and curtains, and sat down to watch them on TV. Mac had worn noise-cancelling headphones, and while he'd spent the entire time with Jack's arm around his shoulders and Bozer's hand on his knee, squeezing a cushion to death, he'd been mostly fine. No flashbacks. No panic attack.

'…And I've been getting better, so I thought I'd be fine with watching them the normal way this time around, but apparently not.' He groaned in frustration. 'It just doesn't make sense! I'm fine pretty much all the time. I rarely have bad days now, cars backfiring don't send me back there anymore, the nightmares have gotten much better…' He crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them again. 'I can talk about explosions and bombs. I'm completely fine at work. I can watch movies or TV shows with explosions and gunfights and the like without any issues. I've been talking about the reactions of alkali metals with water with Valerie. I'm perfectly fine with one of my projects catching fire or causing a minor explosion or…' He trailed off.

His psychologist nodded.

'It's not always logical, Mac. You know that. Sometimes the triggers are almost random, or depend on so many factors we can't narrow it down. Where you are, what time of day it is, how you're feeling in that instant, who is with you, smells, even what you're wearing or what you did that day or the day before.' She laid her hands down on the table. 'But do you think it could be related to you feeling in control? After all, if you make something, or watch a movie or talk about explosive devices at work, you're the one who is in control of that situation. You're the one who decided to do that. You can stop it at any time. But with the fireworks, you aren't in control. You can't just turn them off or get them to stop…'

* * *

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

'A couple of weeks ago, one of our researchers stumbled upon information about an old Russian Cold War project, Project Firebird. A nuclear device, controlled by a special computer system.'

Jack, Riley and Mac looked rather concerned.

Thornton continued.

'We are fairly certain that it has been deactivated and destroyed; the chief scientist, Alexander Orlov, working on the program defected towards the end of the Cold War. However, we wanted to be certain, so we tracked down Orlov and his handler, Victor Levkin, and brought them here.' Thornton gestured to the conference room on the other side of the frosted glass windows. 'I want you three to go through everything we know about Firebird, and combine it with everything they know about it. Leave no stone unturned. We can never be too sure about a nuclear bomb.'

All three nodded, Riley and Mac looking thoughtful, Jack somewhat more bemused.

'Patty, Riley and Mac I get, nuclear bomb controlled by a fancy computer and all, but what am I doing here?'

Thornton shot him a look.

'Don't sell yourself short, Jack. You're well versed in Cold War-era intelligence and threats.' She gave a small smile. 'Besides, off the record, at least one person on this team should have actual memories of the Cold War.' She tapped on the glass wall of the room and it turned clear and the privacy soundproofing turned off. They immediately heard loud shouting in Russian. 'And I think this team might have the particular skill set needed to manage the two.'

Two fairly elderly Russian men were in the conference room next door, yelling at each other in their native language. The thinner, white-haired one had somehow made a slingshot out of a couple of pens and what looked like his shoelaces and was shooting apples from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table at the darker-haired, portlier man with it.

'We confiscated no fewer than three handguns off Levkin, the one who is not pulling a MacGyver.'

Thornton's voice was dry and serious, but they all swore there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

Riley raised an eyebrow at her mentor, then glanced between the two Russians and Mac and Jack.

'They're like older you two, hyped up on too much coffee.'

Both men looked mildly horrified.

'What are they saying, brother?'

Mac focused on translating their words. His Russian wasn't amazing, and he was more or less illiterate in the language, but speech, he could do.

'You left me, Orlov…I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Victor, I should have…I missed you…I missed you too.'

As Mac translated, Orlov dropped the slingshot and the two men hugged each other.

All four Phoenix Foundation employees stared at the scene in front of them.

'Well, it looks like your job just got easier. It looks like mediation won't be necessary.'

Jack indicated Thornton with a jab of his thumb, and leaned over towards Mac.

'See, told you Patty has a sense of humour, brother.'

 _Well, at least it's going to be an interesting day._

 _And hey, that pen-and-shoelace, apple-shooting slingshot wasn't bad._

* * *

 _Hey Mac,_

 _This is pretty short because I've just gotten home to my parents' place in West Lafayette at last and jet-lag is horrible (but flying itself is even worse; I'm so, so glad to be back on solid ground), but I wanted to at least write back to you quickly. (I'll send you my thoughts on your latest prosthesis modification after I've had a shower, food, some sleep and a chance to look at your plan in detail and do some research- I think you're on the right track, though.)_

 _On the way back (I had lots of downtime waiting at airports, and I made use of the Wi-Fi on the planes- that does make flying a little better!), I did some research on what hospitals to apply to, since, well, I need a job now._

 _I'm keen on the East Coast, always have been (when I was a little girl, it was my life goal to at least visit Harvard), and your description of D.C and the fondness of which you speak (or rather, write) of your time at MIT has helped to seal the deal. Besides, it'd be nice to be in the same time-zone, wouldn't it? We could even chat in real-time! What a luxury! I'm going to apply to Bethesda; if I get it (fingers crossed!), maybe we can finally, properly meet in some non-life-or-death scenario! Get Starbucks or something- is it bad that I've totally missed overly-sugary, over-priced American coffee-and-whipped-cream-containing beverages?_

* * *

Chapter song: Lanterns, Birds of Tokyo.


	16. 525,600 Minutes

**AUGUST 2016**

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

 _Dear Dad,_

 _It's been a year._

 _A year since the day I lost my leg. (Or, more accurately, part of it.)_

 _I'm okay, I promise. My friends have been really, really supportive…_

* * *

Mac walked into the living room, hair mussed and blinking sleepily.

Bozer and Riley stood in the kitchen, Bozer at work over the stove while Riley made coffee.

They both smiled at him.

'Morning, bro.'

'Good morning, Mac.'

'We made you breakfast! We've got my world-class waffles, pancakes, French toast, some of those poppyseed bagels you like, eggs three ways, bacon, Canadian bacon…'

Riley held up a couple of steaming mugs.

'And coffee.'

Mac looked over the absolutely huge spread of food on the dining table.

'You do know that the human stomach has an absolute maximum capacity of about four litres, right?'

Bozer shrugged.

'We can eat the leftovers for lunch, and dinner.'

Riley nodded.

'Breakfast food is the best food.'

Mac allowed Riley to lead him over to the table, and Bozer to pile his plate high with a little bit of everything, and together, the three of them ate their breakfast, laughing and joking and chatting about nothing in particular.

Afterwards, feeling very, very full (which surprised him, because he hadn't been sure he'd be able to eat anything at all today), and far more calm and content than he really should be, Mac reached over and hugged his best friend.

'Thanks, Bozer. For everything.'

His best friend hugged him back tightly.

'My pleasure, bro, my pleasure.'

Mac smiled, let go of the shorter man, and reached out to bump fists with Riley. He was pleasantly surprised when she hugged him instead.

'I'm glad we got to meet, Mac.'

He smiled and hugged her a little tighter.

'I'm glad too, Riley. Thanks for breakfast.'

She laughed.

'It was mostly Bozer. I just made the coffee.'

'Coffee's important.'

She laughed and Mac reached out and pulled Bozer into a group hug.

'I really appreciate it, guys.'

* * *

As Bozer and Riley finished cleaning up breakfast, the doorbell rang.

Mac walked over and answered it, to find Penny standing at the door. She gave him a gentle smile and thrust a box at him. Mac could smell her homemade cinnamon rolls.

He took the box with a soft smile, and reached out and hugged her. She whispered into his ear.

'If you ever need someone else to talk to, I'm here, even if I only have a minor in psychology.'

His smiled broadened, and he hugged her a little more tightly.

'Thanks, Penny.'

He let go of her, and moved away from the door to let her in properly.

'Have you had breakfast? We've got a lot of leftovers.'

* * *

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Thornton had already spoken to him discreetly about a week before, telling him that if he needed to, he could take the next week off, or work only some days and/or come into work late and/or leave early.

However, Mac actually felt rather good, so although he came in rather late, he did go to work, just as he had every day this week.

About four in the afternoon, when he was finally starting to feel hungry after his very large breakfast, his boss materialized at his desk, a poppyseed bagel on a plate in her hands.

She put it on his desk, and reached out and clasped his shoulder.

'You're doing a lot of good, Mac. I'm glad you're able to do it.'

He smiled up at her, and she smiled back.

'Thanks, Patricia.'

Her smile widened, she squeezed his shoulder again, and then left him to his bagel.

* * *

 **BAR**

 **ANACOSTIA**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

It was somewhat of a miracle that they could all be here.

In fact, Davies, Johnstone, Daniels and the rest of the Delta Force commandoes were all due to deploy again in less than a week, and Charlie, for some reason, had been sent by the FBI to do a two-week consult in D.C.

Maybe it was Fate.

Maybe it was Chance and they were just lucky. (God knows, Lady Luck seemed to look pretty favourably on them.)

Maybe they had a guardian angel or angels in the higher-ups. Maybe Thornton had pulled some strings.

In the end, it didn't matter.

They were all here, together.

The men of the special taskforce put together to catch The Ghost raised their glasses in a toast, looking simultaneously at each other and far, far away.

After six years of service together, watching each other's backs, they knew some things just didn't have to be said.

They clinked their glasses together, and drank.

* * *

 **MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

Jack walked with him up to his front door. When they got there, the older man reached out and embraced the younger, squeezing him so tightly that Mac was mildly concerned about cracking a rib or two.

'You okay, brother?'

Mac smiled wanly and nodded.

'Yeah, I'm okay, Jack. I promise.'

Jack let him go, and stood there staring at him, a hand on his shoulder.

'I'm glad you are, brother. Real glad.'

Mac reached out and put his hand on the other man's shoulder.

'You don't have to worry about me, Jack.'

Jack shook his head with a wry smile.

'I've been worrying about you for seven years, brother. I'm not going to stop.'

Mac didn't really know what to say, so just hugged him again, trying to pour all of his feelings into the gesture.

Jack hugged him back just as tightly, and Mac was pretty sure he got the message, loud and clear.

* * *

 _Hey Mac,_

 _I'm settling in nicely at Bethesda, the ER department's really good here, thanks for asking. Though, of course I get funny looks and the like every now and then, because I apparently look too young to be a fully-qualified doctor. I'm pretty sure that a good number of those people are plenty old enough to remember watching Doogie Howser, so I have no idea why they're so surprised. I'm ten years older than he was, after all! I'm also already sick of bad puns- yes, my name is Beth, and I work at Bethesda. Get over it. (Are Jack's puns that bad?)_

 _Mac, I genuinely don't know how you do it. Sure, I know you have your good days, and I know you have your bad days, and I know you've got an incredible support network and professional help, but I still don't know how you do it. I mean, what I saw and what I faced was absolutely nothing compared to what you experienced, and I definitely have my days, as you know. Still wake up in the middle of the night thinking I'm back in Greece, or even Afghanistan, sometimes._

 _Chris says that getting back from MSF deployment is tough, and that you can't un-see what you saw, but just the same, what you did, the good you did and the lives you saved, also can't be undone. He says to remember the latter and focus on it, and look forward. To the lives you can save and improve in the future. I think that's good advice and I'm trying to take it. He also says to reach out to those around you, those who care about you, even if they might not be able to exactly understand what you've been through, because no two people walk the same path, but you'd be surprised how much resemblance there is between any two. Empathy and common ground and whatnot._

 _Okay, okay, I'm really screwing this up, aren't I? I've somehow turned this more into being about me than it is about you, which was seriously not the point of this, I promise! Exhibit A, Dr Beth Taylor, M.D, with her foot planted firmly in her mouth!_

 _What I'm trying to say (obviously badly) is that ever since I've gotten back, I admire your strength and how you've gotten through everything that's happened in the past year even more than I did before. I'm trying to share Chris' advice with you, though I know you've received plenty and might well have heard words to that effect before, because it's been helping me and I want to help you, like you've been helping me, because we matter to each other and care about each other. And I'm also trying to say, I'm here for you, too; we can talk about it if you want and I will draw on my own experiences and try and offer what understanding I can, or we can talk about something unrelated, be it intellectual or silly. Like, the other day, I had this amazing peach cobbler at this little all-night diner under a bridge in D.C. I'll find the address and send it to you, you should definitely try it. Or have you read about the Australian lab that's come up with a star-shaped peptide polymer to kill bacteria, for a post-antibiotic resistance world? I can find an article for you somewhere (I think Valerie will like it; the lead researcher is a female PhD candidate)…_

 _Alright, I'm going to end this email here before I dig myself to China (don't you dare write back and tell me that China's not even directly opposite Maryland; I had to study like crazy to make an A in Geography in high school!)_

* * *

Mac sat down on a chair on the rooftop deck, eating one of Bozer's incredible s'mores, with Jack, Riley and his best friend seated around him.

He took another bite of his s'more and chewed thoughtfully, staring out at the cityscape.

 _It's a year and a day, today._

 _A year and a day has special significance, apparently._

 _Something to do with the minimum jail sentence for a felony, as well as some sort of statute of limitations on murders, plus some pagan traditions and I swear it featured in fairytales and stories I heard as a boy._

 _Now, I'm pretty doubtful on whether said significance is actually meaningful, but it does sound nice, doesn't it?_

 _Poetic, really._

 _And a year and a day is a good time to look back and reflect._

 _You know, a year and a day after it all happened, I can definitively say that not everything that happened in that hospital in Afghanistan was bad._

 _I guess that was always true, and I always knew that: we did catch The Ghost, and we did save a lot of lives that day._

 _But I'm thinking that there were many more positive consequences that a little under a year ago, I'd have never even considered._

 _Without Afghanistan, I don't think either Jack or I would have ended up working at the Phoenix, in jobs that we both love. In a job that in many ways, feels like it was made for me._

 _Hence, I'd never have met Riley or Patricia, so I'd have two fewer incredible, dear friends, and Bozer and Riley would have never gotten together and she and Jack might never have reconciled._

 _And maybe, if I hadn't lost part of my leg and I hadn't lost Nikki, I would never have ended up reaching out to my dad. Maybe we would still be estranged. Progress is slow, of course, you can't undo thirteen years of radio silence and a good few more of growing distance in less than a year's worth of letters, but I'm going to visit him next month, so I think things between us are getting better. Healing._

 _Without Afghanistan, I'd never have met Beth, either._

 _Actually, we've not really met, not properly in-person, at least. (Life-or-death situations do not count. We are both firmly in agreement on that.)_

 _We haven't had the chance to grab coffee like she said yet, with her being so busy moving halfway across the country and settling in to Bethesda and finding her feet in civilian life again._

 _Now that she's settling nicely and seems to be getting her bearings again, I should fix that._

Mac finished his s'more, and with a last glance at the skyline, turned to his friends.

Jack was lighting marshmallows on fire, insistent that that was the only way to do it, while Bozer scolded him for such sacrilege and waste. Riley was rolling her eyes at the two of them, but her head was resting on Bozer's shoulder and her expression was soft and fond.

Mac watched the little tableau they made for a second, and then grinned.

 _A year and a day on, and I can say, life is good._

 _In fact, life is excellent._

* * *

… _How about we go get peach cobbler at that little diner under the bridge together?_

* * *

Chapter song: Seasons of Love, RENT.

AN: The star-shaped peptide polymer is a real thing, but I have played slightly with the timeline- in reality, its discovery was publicised in September 2016, not August.


	17. Follow the Light

**MAC'S RESIDENCE**

 **WASHINGTON D.C**

* * *

'Hey, bro, how many people are we expecting for dinner tonight?'

Mac looked up from where he was modifying a toaster to cook pancakes instead. It'd be so much easier to just pour some batter in, flip a switch and then get perfect pancakes out a couple of minutes later, rather than breaking out a frypan. (It would also be pretty cool.) He'd managed to rig up a similar device in his MIT days, so it was really just a matter of recreating it…

'The four of us, Penny, Patricia and Beth, so seven.'

Jack (who'd come over with bagels in the morning, in what was rapidly becoming a Sunday morning tradition), Bozer and Riley all exchanged a glance and smirks at Mac's mention of his pen-pal.

'Can't wait to meet your girl, brother.'

Mac put down the screwdriver, shaking his head.

'She's not my girl, Jack.'

His friends looked very sceptically at him.

'You're deep in a river in Egypt, bro.'

Mac sighed.

 _Well, that's family._

 _They can never keep their noses out of my business._

 _Even if they're probably right._

 _Look, after only two dates is too soon to be calling her my girl._

'Yet.' There were high-fives and Jack slipped Bozer ten bucks. Mac pretended not to notice. 'There's something there.'

'Understatement of the century, Mac.'

'What my computer goddess said, bro.'

Mac looked up at Jack, hoping to find an ally. The older man just shrugged.

'They're not wrong, brother.'

Mac picked up the screwdriver again and pointed at Jack with it.

'You know, old man, I could tell them all about your _really_ long meeting with Thornton the other day…'

Riley and Bozer, like sharks smelling blood, turned to Jack, growing smirks on their faces.

The older man gulped.

'Oh, I'll get you for that, kid, I'll get you for that.'

'Turnabout's fair play, old man.'

Mac turned part of his attention back to his disassembled toaster, a grin on his face as he listened to his friends' banter.

* * *

 **Hey Mac, I might be a little late- making enough pie to feed seven people (which is a lot of pie, since you can never have enough pie) took longer than I thought, as it's a new peach pie recipe I've never done before. (I made a little test one and tried it, and it's not as amazing as that peach cobbler we had the other day, but it's pretty close even if I say so myself.) Also, I might need you to come down and give me a hand (not literally, you're already missing a little more than a foot, don't need to lose a hand too!); I don't have enough hands to hold all the pies! See you soon!**

With a grin, Mac typed out a quick reply, closed Beth's text, put his phone back into his pocket, and headed upstairs to the roof, a plate of raw hamburger patties that Bozer had prepared earlier in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

Jack, Riley and Bozer were already there, setting up the grill and the seating.

Mac put the meat and the beer down, and walked over to the edge of the roof, looking out over the city.

His friends came over and stood beside him, Jack on his right and Bozer on his left, Riley on Bozer's other side.

Jack reached out and clasped his shoulder, then put an arm around him.

'I might not like how we got here, but I'm glad we're here, brother.'

Mac smiled and reached out, putting an arm around Jack, and one around Bozer, who returned the gesture and put his other arm around Riley.

'I'm glad we're here too, Jack. I'm glad we're all here, together.'

The four friends stood and watched the sunset together for a beautiful, quiet moment.

'I'm totally making this the ending of my next movie.'

Riley elbowed her boyfriend in the stomach.

'You just ruined the moment, genius.'

'Come on, baby, it's going to be a beautiful moment on-camera! Just imagine, our heroes-' Riley raised an eyebrow at him. '-And heroine, of course, after a long, long mission, saving the world as usual, arrive back home and stand there, looking dramatically out at the sunset, symbolising simultaneously the end of a long, hard year and the dawn of a new one….'

'Then wouldn't they have to stand there all night and wait for the sun to rise too?'

Jack and Mac just shared a glance, shaking their heads at their friends. They didn't quite get how Bozer and Riley worked together, but they did.

 _Life's funny that way._

 _Things never happen how you plan them, or how you think they'll happen._

 _You get surprises thrown at you, every step of the way._

 _Some of them are good, like Bozer and Riley or that peach cobbler at the diner under the bridge._

 _Some of them are just weird, like coming home to your roommate making duck l'orange because you had a third date._

 _Some of them are bad, like that bomb-within-a-bomb or Nikki leaving me._

 _Funny thing is, and maybe this is my internal optimist or idealist talking, but you seem to end up somewhere that's pretty similar to where you thought you'd end up, eventually._

 _I mean, a little over a year ago, when I was back in Afghanistan, if you'd asked me what my ideal place to be was, I'd say at home in D.C with my friends and my beautiful and intelligent girlfriend/hopefully fiancée, with The Ghost caught and put away and a job that helps people._

 _I've ended up with most of that, even if it's not exactly like what I'd planned._

 _I'm home and I've got my incredible friends. My family. The Ghost is in prison for life, and I've got a job doing good and saving lives, even if it's less direct than it used to be. My dad and I are talking again, which is something that I never thought would happen. As for the beautiful and intelligent girlfriend? Ask me again, say, next month. We're taking it slow._

 _I guess I've always been terrible at making plans anyway; I'm definitely an on-the-fly kind of guy._

 _Anyway, you know how on Instagram, those inspirational posts are always like 'it's not the destination, it's the journey'?_

 _Well, I'm not sold on that, because parts of the journey have been pretty damn awful (though some parts have also been great), but I'm definitely happy with the destination._

 _And of course this isn't the last stop on the great train journey of life - God, I sound like my grandfather- but I'm pretty happy with where I've gotten so far._

 _I'm looking forward to seeing where it'll take me next._

* * *

Chapter song: The Call, Regina Spektor.

AN: And there's the end of that! Thank you for your support throughout this story, I hope you enjoyed it! For some glimpses into exactly where the great train journey of life is taking Mac and his friends/family next, stay tuned to _The Roommate Chronicles_ and the next chapter of _Two Paperclips and a Stick of Gum._

I have no plans for any more _MacGyver_ stories at the moment (and I probably won't start anything *big* or multi-chap, like this story, since I go back to uni in just under a month, but I am very open to prompts to add to _Two Paperclips and a Stick of Gum!_ If you've got a prompt or a request, just drop me a line in a review/comment/PM!


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